Embracing thy Enemy
by deeh
Summary: Draco makes a vow he can't help but break.Time slowed and mere moments dragged on like a passing eternity. She had wanted this and she knew it, she hated it and wanted it. DHr
1. International Schools Decathlon

**Disclaimer: **Don't own a thing (besides the plot)

**A/N: **It's my second story on this site, the beginning will be a bit boring but hopefully it will become more interesting. Justa not that I designed the plot about a month HBP came out and decided to suddenly write it now. So HBP will have no influence. If this chapter is long believe methey will get shorter but then hopefully the updates will be more frequent. With nothing else to say, all I can say is, enjoy!

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**Embracing thy Enemy**

**By Deeh**

Chapter 1: International Wizarding Schools Decathlon 

The regal man kneeled respectfully on the cold floor of the dark chamber. He dared not look up towards his powerful master. "It is accomplished my Lord." He said towards the floor. "My son is almost of age, he is near ready to embrace his destiny." He said again.

"You have done well my faithful Lucius, you have done well." His master hissed icily. A sinister smile spread across his master's cold features. Lucius nodded lowly in gratitude towards his master's patience. "Be sure your son is ready when the time arrives."

Lucius nodded. "He is more than willing to preform this task my Lord, I shall assure to it that he shall not fail you my Lord." Lucius kept his head low and placed his right hand over his heart. "It is an honour that it shall be my son to be the second, sixth heir."

"Yes it is an honour to partake in such a glorious moment in history." His master nodded thoughtfully. "Present to me the blood." He commanded. Lucius quickly obeyed him. He plunged his hand in his pocket and retrieved for his master a crystal vial, which contained centuries old blood. It was blood that had belonged to his ancestor Drake of five generations past. The blood was kept warm and fresh by ancient magic, so the liquid in the vial retained its vibrant crimson brilliance.

"Ah the blood of the sixth heir, the initial key in our important task." Said his master as he examined the vial closely. He brought the vial up to his eye level, his ruby eyes blazed with pleasure making them seem as if they were glowing brightly in the heavily shadowed room. He swirled the red liquid in the vial. "Finally… the time has come for it is I who shall unlock the jaws of Hell."

His eyes flicked open. Like a light suddenly switched on he awoke in the darkness of night from the same occurring dream. He sat up in a dazed fatigued state. His warm silk sheets slid off his toned muscular body with ease as he sat up in his bed and attempted to recall the events in his repeated dream. The dream…it felt so…real. "Perhaps it was a memory?" He asked himself. Shaking his head and ridding his mind of this 'dream nonsense.' He slowly got out of bed and grimaced at his snoring peers. Immediately sensing the cold he grabbed his robe and covered his exposed body. He checked his gold pocket watch. It read five fifteen. He winced and decided to take a shower realising that once he was a wake there was no chance he would ever be able to fall back asleep. "Another day in the horrid mundane," he thought to himself sourly. After enjoying a relaxing hot shower he quickly got dressed and opened his trunk, perhaps now would be the perfect opportunity to finish homework. He took out a few sheets of parchment; a quill and some ink and headed towards the common room.

An hour of studying passed and slowly one by one his peers began to wake. By this time he had finished all his studying and was waiting tediously for something or someone to catch his interest. He yawned, he couldn't believe that the day hadn't even begun and his mind was already worn out. A few of his fellow housemates woke and greeted him respectfully. Being rich, powerful, resourceful and the heir to an entire fortune sometimes did grant its perks. He nodded his head and acknowledged each of them gracefully. A familiar face came to greet him.

_Finally…_

"Blaise, god finally you're awake I thought I was going to die of boredom." He said as he stood up to greet his friend.

"How long have you been awake Draco?" Asked a surprised Blaise.

"Far too long, the snoring of those idiots Crabbe and Goyle woke me." Said Draco irritably. Blaise laughed at his misfortune. Draco rolled his eyes and walked away grumpily. He was not a morning person. "Come on let's get down to breakfast before Crabbe and Goyle arrive and consume everything." The two boys walked out of the Slytherin common room and made their way to breakfast.

As Draco sat down for breakfast he realised the golden trio had walked in, the scowl that already inhabited his face deepened. They were smiling and chatting animatedly to another. This angered Draco, their consistent happiness and unity was absolutely annoying. Even a glance at their smiling faces annoyed him. Everything about them annoyed him. But mostly _she_ annoyed him. "Filthy mudblood." He muttered. Potter was somewhat half-decent - though the way he acted like a modest saint was infuriating. Weasley at least was pureblood - though his vulgarity and rash actions, not to mention his lack of wealth and the fact that he was a total blood traitor was enough to drive anyone up the wall. But _her, _She had not one decent aspect within her. She was an insufferable know-it-all who never ceased to flaunt it wherever she went, she had bushy hair, a stubborn imperturbable attitude, a diligent demeanour but worst of all she was a mudblood and she was _proud _of it.

"Urgh she's so disgusting." Said Draco glaring at her while pouring syrup on his warm pancakes.

"Hey just think there's only one more year before we're finally rid of her." Said Blaise positively, slicing his pancakes into bite-sized pieces.

"There's a plus side to that?" Asked Draco quite cynically.

"Yes, there's only one more year left." Said Blaise as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Only?_ Only?" _Cried Draco. "Good god what has gotten into you? I couldn't stand them for the next ten seconds let alone a year!" He was in a very foul mood indeed. He often never complained _this _much. It was that damn dream it felt so real. So real that he almost thought it a memory..._Why the hell does that dream bother me so? _He asked himself.

Blaise sighed in defeat and continued eating his breakfast. "Listen if the sight of them bothers you so much then just don't look at them." Blaise said as a flock of owls came soaring through delivering mail to its recipients.

Ignoring the owls Draco scowled. "How can I not when they're sitting right in front of me? Plus their proud Gryffindor vibes are affecting my concentration." Draco sighed. He found it almost a scandalous insult that people with such saintly benevolent personalities existed. No he wasn't jealous of them, he'd kill himself before he ever envied the golden trio, he was just angry for no absolute reason. He watched her as she stood up from her seat at the table and confront two first-years, deduct points then return to her seat proudly as the shiny Head Girl badge gleamed on her chest. The knowledge that she was Head Girl did not help Draco's mood, in fact it seemed to have worsened it. Though it came as to no surprise that the mudblood had received the honourable place as Head Girl, it still pissed him off whenever that little fact was brought up. He had been a very fitting candidate for the position of Head Boy along with Potter and the Weasel and some few others. But because old Albus Dumbledore had no intention to cause any rivalry or jealousy between the best friends he chose neither. And yet! With the two best candidates cleared from competition some pompous bastard from Ravenclaw had swiped the renowned position from underneath his nose! Why? He neither had the motivation nor patience to find out why; he spent more of his energy being outraged. Then just as he had expected he received a letter from his dear father reminding him of how thoroughly disappointed he was, and how Draco didn't work hard enough to deserve the highly coveted spot.

"This is going to be such an enjoyable year." He grumbled miserably to himself. "So en-freaking-joyable."

In the background Blaise just shook his head and chuckled at his friend's bitterness. "His mood will shift soon." He murmured. Draco poured strong black coffee into his mug. He drank fervently enjoying the warmth. He loved his coffee strong and black. Blaise was right as soon as Draco had his caffeine wake up call his sour mood had vanished.

Hermione Granger skipped down to breakfast merrily. Her seemingly wonderful year had just begun. Being named Head Girl had been her dream ever since she first entered Hogwarts. She entered the Hall accompanied by her two best friends. They were currently in conversation about their Transfiguration homework, which surprisingly they had not been issued much of. Harry and Ron had been rapturously overjoyed upon hearing it. Less homework and more time for Quidditch they would chant. Hermione often disapproved of their lack of enthusiasm towards their studies but decided to be content as long as they were happy, and they were.

As she sat down she felt a cold glare on herself. She knew exactly who had been sending her such a hateful gaze and decided to pay no attention to the arrogant snob. She smiled at the day ahead of her she had a positive outlook on life and didn't let a negative look from her mortal enemy ruin her morning.

"Pass the coffee Ron, please." She asked indicating to the steaming silver jug next to his hand. He picked up the jug and handed it to her, she gracefully thanked him in return.

"Any milk or cream with that?" He asked.

"Ron please, you've eaten breakfast with me for over six years. You of all people should know that I like my coffee black." She stated matter-of-factly whilst pouring the steaming black liquid into her mug. She poured syrup onto her pancakes and began to eat. Then a flock of owls came flying through dropping packages and mail to the students. Just as usual a tawny barn owl came soaring through and dropped the daily prophet above her head. Anticipating this she caught the newspaper before it had a chance to give her a headache. Scanning the pages briefly for anything interesting, a series of shouts interrupted her. Sensing an argument between first years she got up from her seat and obligated by responsibility she confronted them.

"Excuse me? What is going on here?" She asked sternly, portraying a McGonagall-like appearance. The two students ceased their boisterous bickering and looked up to her looking slightly guilty for their loud disruption.

"Nothing." One of them mumbled begrudgingly.

"Well I can't have any arguing at breakfast, five points from Gryffindor." She said brusquely. She whipped around and proudly returned to her seat. The feeling and sense of authority almost somewhat thrilled her.

"So Hermione…" Asked Harry while swallowing his scrambled eggs. "What lessons do we have for today?" He looked at her expectantly waiting for an answer. Hermione recalled her memory then listed the subjects for him. "I can't believe we have double potions with the Slytherins first!" Harry grumbled. "What a way to start the day."

"Look at it as if you're getting it over and done with. You wouldn't want to spend the whole day dreading the afternoon would you?" She was beginning to sound over optimistic.

"Well someone's obviously in a good mood." Said Harry.

"Jeez Hermione, you're beginning to sound like my mother." Groaned Ron disdainfully.

"I'm just in high spirits that's all." Hermione said trying to justify herself. "Just because I feel a tad bit happier than usual does not mean the whole world is coming to an end, honestly." Harry and Ron gave each other the same look and rolled their eyes. Knowing exactly what the two boys were doing Hermione felt exasperation. "Oh come on! Be a little happy will you? I mean even Malfoy can have a more optimistic attitude and I've never seen him truly smile once!"

"When did this whole subject turn to Malfoy?" Asked Ron raising a confused eyebrow.

"Look I'm just saying -"

"That's enough coffee for you." Harry swiped the mug away from Hermione's plate and placed on his side of the table.

"- Hey! Harry!" Hermione stood up and tried to grab her mug back from Harry, but he held it far away. Ron was in the background laughing his head off, Hermione shot him a glare and he immediately shut up. After a few minutes Harry resigned and returned Hermione's coffee back to its owner. Accepting her mug she sat back down looking very disgruntled.

"It was just a joke Hermione." Harry chuckled.

"Yeah it was just a joke." Said Ron chuckling after him.

"I don't seem to be laughing." She mumbled under her breath. Their efforts to deprive her of her pleasant mood seemed to have succeeded. Pouring herself another cup of coffee she glanced upwards to the Slytherin table. Why did she bring up Malfoy? "Perhaps it was because he was glaring at me so venomously earlier, yeah that was it." She thought aloud, mumbling to herself.

Potions indeed turned out to be a torturous bore. As it turned out, Professor Snape had been drilling them with a series of complex questions, ones that only Hermione and some few choice Slytherins bothered to answer. He redundantly stressed about the importance of their NEWTS and how he personally would deal with anyone who would disgrace him and receive a below passing mark. (Neville Longbottom paled instantly at this piece of information). He also elucidated the reason behind this drill was that the theory segment of the potions exam was just as important as the practical.

"Now tell me what is the antidote for the Swelling Solution?" Snape asked icily glaring at them all. Instantly Hermione raised her hand. Snape rolled his eyes and surveyed the class. "Anyone other than Miss Granger who is the only one who has bothered to answer the last three questions." He drawled as he gave the class one last once-over, giving up he asked: "Miss Granger?"

"Deflating Draught." She said promptly. Snape said nothing to criticize. Draco sat back in his chair with his arms crossed. He thought this entire lesson an absolute waste of time. He rolled his eyes every time Hermione instantly raised her hand, he did know all the correct answers to the questions but he thought: _why should I have to work when the mudblood is obviously keen on doing the work for me?_

"Bloody know-it-all." He mumbled.

"What are the ingredients for a Boil-Cure Potion?" Snape asked walking up and down the aisles of desks. Again as predicted Hermione had raised her hand. "Miss Granger?" Snape exasperated, annoyed at the class' overall lack of enthusiasm.

"Dried nettles, stewed horn slugs, porcupine quills and crushed snake fangs."

"And please tell me, when must the porcupine quills be added?" He asked her. Hermione paused for a moment. A few seconds passed. Then a few more, in Hermione's silence some students looked up in utter perplexity. Goodness she didn't know the answer! Draco sneered. They learnt this potion in their first year! _Oh this is priceless,_ Draco thought. He watched her almost cower under the silent pressure. Then he decided to rescue her just to witness her expression when he outsmarted her. Snape glared at her waiting impatiently for an answer.

"The porcupine quills should be added after the cauldron has been taken off the fire, sir." Drawled Draco almost lazily. "If not then the potion produces mass clouds of acid green smoke and melts your cauldron and may I add, if I correctly recall, as Longbottom had found out the hard way." He chuckled, some Slytherins laughed along with him. Hermione looked at him incredulously, he smirked back at her. His arrogance maddened her. Seeing her red face gave him the sudden urge to burst out laughing an urge, which he quite reluctantly suppressed.

"Excellent Mr. Malfoy at least someone in this class displays a _shred_ of intelligence. Ten points to Slytherin" Said Snape loudly looking over all of them. Hermione reddened deeply. Draco sat back in his chair smugly enjoying her hate-filled glare.

"Bloody Malfoy, how dare he outsmart and victimize me. How dare he make me look like blundering fool!" Hermione muttered vehemently an hour later after potions class had ended. Just then Malfoy strutted towards her.

"Better watch your back Granger I can't always be there to save you." He smirked.

"It was one answer that's all, nothing for you to boast about Malfoy." She spat.

"You're one to talk about boasting Granger why look how eagerly you answer a question? Raising your hand with utter enthusiasm flaunting your knowledge around as if you feel better -"

"At least when I boast I don't result to charlatanism and fraudulence!" She countered.

"I am far from a fraud Granger. When I talk the talk I sure as hell can walk the walk! I'm no Lockhart Granger, Lockhart the very definition of a charlatan and a fraud. To think half the female population _including you_ aspired to him." He said smugly crossing his arms. He exercised extra emphasis on the words 'including you' to create the full impact of his words.

"See you Harry, Ron I have no time to listen to this bull, I have a Arithmancy class to attend." She turned on her heel and briskly walked away. Malfoy, smirking followed. Hearing his footsteps she called out. "Why the hell are you following me Malfoy?"

"It seems like along with that porcupine quill answer you have forgotten the fact that I too attend the same Arithmancy class." He said calmly. Hermione mentally slapped herself. _How could I have forgotten?_

"Well then choose different route and leave me be." She said walking a few paces faster. She shifted the weight of her book bag on her back to accommodate the extra speed.

"What gives you the slightest idea that I have any desire to obey you?" He said taking larger strides to keep up with her unusually fast pace.

"Perhaps the fact that you hate me and I hate you, would give me some idea as to why you would want to stay clear of me." She said quickly trying to get as far away from him as possible.

"Yes, there is that but perhaps you haven't considered that I know that you can't stand my presence, and that by antagonizing you I find it highly amusing." He said smoothly. She flinched, her anger growing at a rapid pace.

"You. Are. The. Devil." She spat out, making a sharp turn and heading down another corridor. He followed her, relishing in the fact that he had this type of effect on her.

"Oh why thank you. " He said smiling. "Devilishly handsome you mean." He added whilst casting a sideways glance to witness her reaction. Just as he had hoped Hermione grinded her teeth together in order to quell her anger and frustration.

"Your conceited insolence is staggering, Malfoy." She said through gritted teeth. She rounded the last corner before she reached the classroom. Picking up the pace she had never been so eager to get to class. "Why do you waste so much time and effort antagonizing me anyway?"

"I don't need to exert any effort, it comes natural you see -"

Ignoring his comment she continued. "Shouldn't you be vindictively scheming with your father and your cult on how to rid the world of muggle-borns? Shouldn't you be preparing for your Death Eater initiation or something?" She said quickly, not really meaning anything by it. But her words seemed to have struck a chord. Instantly he grabbed her arm, very tightly.

"Do not insinuate within matters you have no idea about." His voice fell to a dangerously low level. It actually began to scare her. "So shut up Granger." He violently released her causing her to almost fall backwards. Upon righting herself he pushed passed her and entered the classroom.

She glared angrily at his point of entry. "Insufferable git." She muttered, forcefully opening the door. Throughout the entire duration of the class Hermione remained silently fuming in her seat. Every tiny movement, whisper or answer she saw and heard from Draco Malfoy ticked her off, bad. It was just everything about him sparked anger within her. She sat there with her arms crossed over her chest glaring daggers at him. "Pompous git thinks he can get the best of me. Lording over the school as if he owns it strutting around like some egotistical self-deluded prat. He is such an insufferable arse, malicious evil, and conniving overly proud arse. No one makes me look like a fool, especially not him." Her insults came more like a vehement hiss, loud enough that you would almost think that there was a snake in the classroom. She could not even fully concentrate on class and that infuriated her more than anything else. For one of the most rare occasions in her life she did not commit a thousand percent towards her studies and she hated that feeling, but most of all she hated Malfoy – with an extreme passion too. She hated everything about him. He harboured not one positive aspect within him. He was rich, powerful, popular and respected. He abused that power and respect constantly and he had an ego that would definitely be incongruous to humility. She doubted he knew the definition of the very word. He was arrogant and conceited, not to mention a pompous spoiled brat. He constantly was the centre of attention and ninety percent of the rumours were mainly focused on him, every week cavorting with a different girl. He was the Hogwarts celebrity and he loved to bask in the attention. He took pride and pleasure in degrading people like her - muggleborns or 'mudbloods' as he would call them. "Bloody chauvinist bastard. Stupid bigot." She muttered. He was the sole heir to an evil and prejudiced family closely affiliated with You-Know-Who. He was only endeavouring a highway to destruction. She spared a hateful glance, he wore such a condescending smile, though usually he kept his face emotionless and stoic never showing much emotion or what was hidden beneath his dark exterior. Except of course when he had the special opportunity to provoke her and her company. After all he was an opportunist. He was a boy. The world was his playground. He was just a boy.

The bell rang, disrupting her sidetracked thoughts. Thankfully.

She packed her things and stuffed them into her book bag. When exiting the classroom she gave a glance. He was associating with a different girl this week. She rolled her eyes and scoffed.

"Arse."

She walked silently through the halls making her way to Transfiguration, which thankfully didn't include a certain Slytherin. Hoping to meet up with her friends she scanned the hall. Up ahead she spotted the unmistakeable flaming red hair and the raven head beside it.

"Harry! Ron!" She called towards to them. They turned around and greeted her.

"There you are Hermione!" Said Harry smiling warmly.

"We were looking for you" Said Ron.

"Let's head off to Transfiguration now shall we?" She asked them, linking arms with them both finally relieved that she was free from the presence of that insufferable git Malfoy.

"So how was Arithmancy Hermione?" Asked Ron. Hermione grimaced at the memory.

"Fine just fine, Divination?" She asked.

"Oh well as usual I will die a terrible, terrible death." Said Harry normally. The prediction of a gruesome death in Harry's case wasn't anything out of the ordinary for them since the third year.

"Well," Said Ron clearing his throat loudly gathering the attention, "According to my most recent dream a killer ballet shoe will attempt to murder me in the near future." Said Ron grinning madly. Hermione looked at him incredulously for a few moments then burst out laughing. Tears formed in the corner of her eyes she was left gasping for breath.

"Killer – ballet – slipper – complete - rubbish!" She gasped through pearls of laughter. Harry and Ron looked at each other, as they feared for Hermione's sanity.

"Yeah you're right Harry." Said Ron whilst nodding, "She does drink too much coffee." Hermione ceased her laughter and gave them both a withering look.

It was eight o'clock Hermione rushed towards the Headmaster's office. Earlier that day she had received a letter from Professor McGonagall stating that her presence was requested at eight o'clock that night. Presuming it was Head Girl business she hurried towards the office. Naming the ridiculously childish password to the Gargoyle she stepped inside. She opened the door.

"Hello Professor I – what the hell are you doing here?" She asked rudely once she saw Draco Malfoy sitting looking as bored as ever in front of Dumbledore's desk.

"Ah Miss Granger how nice of you to be punctual." Said a smiling Dumbledore his bright blue eyes had that special twinkle. One that indicated he had something hidden up his sleeve.

"Why hello Professor." Said Hermione as politely as she could, forcing a smile.

"Please do sit Miss Granger, there is a chair right here next to Malfoy." Said Dumbledore indicating to a seat in front of his desk. Hermione almost made a face that would of displayed her exact feeling towards sitting beside her mortal enemy but decided to smile politely instead.

"Why thank you Professor." She made her way to the conjured squishy chair and sat down on the edge, as far away from _him_ as possible. Malfoy didn't seem too bothered by her position in her seat.

"With all due respect Headmaster but what exactly is the point of this…meeting?" Asked Malfoy finally speaking up, that same stoic expression plastered on his handsome visage.

"Ah, yes." Said Dumbledore clasping his hands together warmly. "It seems that this year I have been informed that there will be an International Wizarding Schools Decathlon." Hermione leaned in closer while Malfoy raised an interested eyebrow. "Yes, it is exactly like a normal Decathlon only, the only difference is that it is based on Academic studies. The ten subjects that are to be focused on this decathlon are: Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, Care of Magical Creatures, History of Magic, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies and Herbology."

Hermione was drinking this all in her eyes were as round as galleons.

"Now Hogwarts is included in this wondrous event so I have asked of the Professors to nominate the top student in their class. In normal occasions a maximum of ten students from every school compete in this event though these are not normal circumstances. Almost every Professor of the required field had nominated Miss Granger as their top student," Hermione beamed with pride and joy at this, but her feelings evaporated when Dumbledore spoke again, "Save professor Snape who has nominated you Mr. Malfoy as his top student." Malfoy smirked in her direction.

_Biased git_, Hermione thought sourly. "Professor, when is this Decathlon going to take place?" Hermione asked. She always needed to know, for her schedule.

"I'm glad you asked that Miss Granger, This decathlon will take place in two months time here at Hogwarts. This date is a few months apart from your NEWTS to give you ample study and revision time. Now to prepare yourselves you both will meet in the Library at eight every second night to study for two hours or longer, any missed study sessions are your responsibility." Hermione and Malfoy were left dumbfounded. When recovering from their initial shock they cried out.

"What!"

"Excuse me?"

"Work with him!"

"Work with her!"

They were both already out of their seats practically screaming at their Headmaster. When realising this they calmed and returned to their seats. Dumbledore looked far from offended, instead he looked on the verge of laughing. He smiled sweetly at the two. "Please Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy I do hope you both get along or at least make an attempt or effort to desist quarrelling. I'm quite sure you two are both mature enough to handle this situation calmly and smooth any bumps in the road."

Hermione pursed her lips and nodded curtly. Malfoy seemed quite annoyed then did the same his face returning to its usual void expression.

"Well then I am quite pleased and proud at the both of you. I am trying to exercise inter-house unity between the students, please do encourage my efforts by setting a positive example. You are dismissed." Dumbledore smiled as they got up and walked towards the door. They walked silently side-by-side not even sparing a glance.

_I can't believe I'm doing this_, Draco thought wearily to himself. With a forced courtesy (just to keep up appearances) he hurried first and opened the door for her. "After you Granger." He said through gritted teeth. He dare not mention the term 'mudblood' in front of his Headmaster. She looked baffled at first but then walked through the open door glaring at him suspiciously. Once through he followed after her and closed the door. As they were walking Hermione spoke up. "Don't think that chivalry and courtesy will earn you points Malfoy."

He scoffed. "Don't bet on it mudblood, you're not that special." Without so much as a word or goodbye he turned down a dark corridor and left. She continued walking and thought of the upcoming events.

"I would be overjoyed if Malfoy didn't have to compete with me." She sighed. _I concentrate a lot better if he wasn't in the room. I can't believe I am obliged to cooperate with that insufferable git, god I'm going to have to tolerate a lot of bull especially coming from that mouth of his. _She thought as she walked back to her Head dorm. "I'm sorry Dumbledore but it's an asinine thought to think that there's a snowball's chance in hell that we could cooperate productively." She muttered upon reaching her destination. She said the password to the portrait and stepped inside. "Though it is worth a try." She sighed.

Draco Malfoy walked quietly through the hallowed Hogwarts halls and down flights of stairs towards the dungeons. He ran down the stairs the flames flickering making seem to appear as if his shadow danced across the stonewalls. It may have looked like an eerie scene but for him it was the perfect time to think. "He really has gone senile." Draco muttered under his breath as he thought of Dumbledore. "Expecting me to work with that mudblood, his mind is lost." _I can't believe I must work with her. To cooperate with a Gryffindor, and the worst of them all! Her filthy mudblood aura will affect my concentration. How can Snape condone such an error? _Draco thought scathingly as he hurried down steps. "Filthy little mudblood." He muttered. Then he sensed a presence.

"Talking to yourself are we?" Said a familiar male voice from the shadows. Draco stopped and looked into the darkness that concealed the source of sound.

"Hello Blaise." He said without even pausing to verify the student behind the voice.

"So you knew it was I." Said Blaise finally stepping out of the shadows.

"Of course I knew it was you. It's my job to know." Said Draco not bothering to hide the arrogance displayed in his voice.

"Ah yes Draco Malfoy, trained all his life to be just like his father, A Death Eater. Knew all dark curses and counters by the age of seven. Has been taught dark history and has been practised to tune his senses for any trickery, now all he needs to do is to practise the art of Legilimency and he could practically overthrow the Dark Lord himself."

All of what Blaise had said had been somewhat true but the only thing was, was that, that was a very dark past. He no longer had any desire to be a Death Eater. He was too proud and ambitious. "What do you want Blaise?"

"Can't a friend walk his friend back down to the dungeons?" Asked Blaise innocently.

"Not if that friend is you." Said Draco bluntly. He started forward until Blaise caught up and they both continued to walk back down to the dungeons.

Comments please! (But please, no flames.)


	2. First Study Session

**Chapter Two: The First Study Session**

Draco woke again to that same dream. Feeling quite annoyed he got out of bed and got ready for school as usual pushing this whole dream business to the back of his mind. "It's just a stupid dream." He muttered as he buttoned his white school shirt. He ran a hand through his hair in annoyance, the immense snoring of Crabbe and Goyle combined was more than deafening and he had to endure it every night. He honestly didn't know how he even acquired the ability to sleep through their foghorn and whale-like imitations. That added with these ambiguous dreams equated to a very pissed off, sleep deprived Draco in the morning. He was a force never to be reckoned with. He walked into the common room.

"What are you doing up this early?" He asked a half-asleep Blaise sitting comfortably on the couch. He jerked awake.

Yawning he answered. "Thought you could use some company." Draco raised an eyebrow and waited for the correct answer. "Ok fine homework." Said Blaise quickly. Draco didn't budge. Blaise sighed. "Millicent had a bad dream, she woke me up." Draco burst out laughing and walked towards him, his dark mood evaporated.

"Are you sure that was all?" He asked him smiling. Of course there had to be something else, Draco knew it.

"Other than the occasional snog I swear that's it."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Of course. Come on let's go to breakfast I want my coffee. I need to be relocated to a new dorm, at this rate the lack of sleep will kill me." They both walked to breakfast. Draco sat down at his usual place at the Slytherin table he poured his coffee into his mug and began to drink. As he raised the mug to his lips, but who should come speeding into the hall her face buried in a book but Hermione Granger. He scowled, remnants of his foul disposition had returned. "Bookworm." He muttered as he began to drink.

"Who?" asked Blaise, buttering a slice of toast he looked up, "Oh."

Unconsciously Draco watched her supposedly glaring hatefully in her direction. He watched her solemn movements. Her head still staring at that book she grabbed a blueberry muffin and poured her coffee, still her eyes never left the page. He watched her stir her coffee gracefully then childishly lick the spoon. Her eyes were still focused on that damn book. Never had he known someone to hold the longest attention span. She sipped her coffee not adding anything to it. _Now this is interesting…_he thought ruefully…_She likes her coffee black, like me. I always thought girls couldn't handle the strength and bitterness of black coffee. You learn something new everyday. Wait. Why am I thinking of the mudblood? _

Rolling his eyes and shaking his head he thought carefully on what aspects of the required subjects he was to focus on for the decathlon. A small clearing of throat interrupted him. He looked up to see his Headmaster, Dumbledore smiling happily at them all. He noticed that the mudblood too had finally looked up from that damn book.

"Ah my lovely students." He greeted warmly. "Please forgive me for interrupting your deliciously scrumptious breakfast but I have an important event to announce." Some students started to murmur and whisper. With the amount of gossip being shared around the whole school Draco couldn't blame them. A blanket of silence fell upon them and hushed them all as Dumbledore spoke again. "This year our school is the host to an international event called the International Wizarding Schools Decathlon. This decathlon will be held two months from now. Think of it as the Tri-Wizard Tournament for academic studies. Up to ten students from each wizarding school are allowed to compete." Some hopeful students sat up straight. "Now I have asked our Professors to nominate their top students, I am sorry only seventh years are allowed to compete." Some of the younger students looked crestfallen. But some very hopeful seventh years especially Ernie McMillan leaned in closer to hear. "Our Professors have nominated our very own Head Girl Miss Hermione Granger and Mr. Draco Malfoy. These students will have to study in the Library at night so if you see them please heed this warning and do not disturb." Those hopeful seventh years deflated. Draco stood up with pride but refrained from smirking at them all. Hermione stood up and smiled though she was blushing furiously. The congregation applauded. Once the clapping had died down they returned to their seat. "Thank you for your time students, please continue your breakfast."

As Draco sat down Blaise tugged at his robes. "What?"

"Well you failed to mention that." Blaise spat, perhaps a hint of jealousy was evident in his voice.

"Mention what?"

"Mention that you are competing in that decathlon that's what!"

"Yeah I was going to tell you this morning but that old coot beat me to it." Said Draco dismissively.

"Fine." Said Blaise. His anger died down he continued to eat.

"But I can't believe I have to work with the mudblood!" Draco suddenly exasperated in frustration. "I won't be able to concentrate with her around!"

Blaise started to laugh he patted Draco on the back. "Good luck, you'll need it. With a smart woman like that Granger she's hard to control and you know the man must be in control." Perhaps Blaise wasn't jealous after all. Draco grumbled darkly in reply.

"But it's the effing mudblood! Has that old coot turned senile? Doesn't he know that we have no possibility of working together? No compatibility whatsoever! She's a filthy mudblood I can barely stand being within the same room as her." Draco complained.

"Look on the bright side -"

"Blaise there is no bright side to this."

"- Yes there is. At that Decathlon you can shame her with your knowledge of the Dark Arts and those study opportunities give you a hell of a lot of time to annoy that mudblood."

"Blaise -"

"Stop complaining."

"I'm not complaining. I'm merely stating my point of view on this insane matter."

"A little over zealous don't you think?"

"Whatever."

"Hey Hermione why didn't you tell us about that Dec- that decahthon." Said Ron looking quite upset about her secrecy.

"That's _decathlon_ Ron, and I was going to tell you. Dumbledore just beat me to it okay?" Said Hermione as if she was speaking to a child with a terrible temper tantrum.

"What schools will you be competing against?" Harry asked as he shovelled scrambled eggs into his mouth.

"Oh I'm not quite sure," Said Hermione airily, "But I suspect Beauxbatons and Dumstrang will be one of the top contenders."

Ron scowled. "Oh isn't it wonderful? Great to see dear Vicky after _so_ long, I wonder Hermione if he has a girlfriend." He said with a fake sweetness.

"Ron." said Hermione sharply. She took another gulp off coffee while she glared at him.

"Yes?"

"Come off it. Plus _Viktor _graduated three years ago." She set her coffee down and returned to her plate of muffins and toast. Harry suddenly started choking on his egg. Both Hermione and Ron snapped their heads in Harry's direction looking alarmed.

"Here Harry drink!" Cried Hermione frantically pouring what seemed like gallons of water down his throat. Harry started to cough and sputter.

"That's enough Hermione." Said Ron taking the cup away from her and patting Harry's back. He looked at Harry to survey if anything was wrong. "Blimey Harry what's going on mate?" When Harry's coughing and clearing of throat had subsided he answered not to Ron but to Hermione.

"I just realised, you have to work with Malfoy." Said Harry as he gasped for breath.

"Oh yeah…that." Hermione looked down, not in shame but in utter disappointment. She really wanted to do this project and the extra studying could help. She was full speed ahead for this decathlon that is…until she discovered she had to work with Malfoy.

"But how on earth will you manage?" Asked Ron just as he also had come to realisation. Hermione shrugged but she was determined to find out a way. She just had to.

That night she carefully packed her quills, inks and parchments tonight she would not tolerate anything from Malfoy. She would not let him ruin this opportunity for her. Any bull that came from his mouth would be strictly contraband. He will not rule her. No man ruled Hermione Granger. Never.

She quickly walked out of Gryffindor Tower and made her way to the Library. It was only seven forty-five but she was never late, punctuality was one of her special traits. Upon reaching the doors of the Library she slowed to a halt. "This is it." She sighed. Opening the doors she glanced around for any signs of Malfoy. No blonde hair, smug aura, Slytherin groupies, none. "He's making this hard for me." Hermione then searched the whole Library looking for Malfoy. Every empty corner, desk, shelf had caused her frustrations to grow and expand more and more. Finally she reached the very farthest corner of the Library: The secluded section with the oldest books, mustiest shelves and one study table sitting idly in the centre of the gathering dust. To reach that destination was almost similar to being in a giant maze of shelves. Hermione remembered she often sat here to study and escape the rowdy crowd. It was a secluded heaven. Only now turned hell by the presence of an insufferable arse. She turned the corner…

And there he sat reading a book. Before she even had the chance to fully step behind a shelf he spoke. "Eight o'clock Mudblood, sharp. Not eight o one. Eight."

She couldn't comprehend how he was able to discern her presence. She didn't know whether she was too loud or if he somehow obtained his own Marauder's Map but one thing was for sure he was already starting to piss her off.

"One minute, and not by my watch. It's still eight o'clock." She said briefly before sitting down on a chair across from him on that lone study table. Still not even sparing her a glance he began to taunt her.

"And I thought you were famous for being early. Guess I must bear the honour to tell all your fans that I was disappointed."

"Well I would have been punctual if _you _didn't have to choose the very back of the Library." She spat with spite as she took out her book on _Advanced Potions_ and started reading.

"What and be seen with you? Plus with all those midgets gawking at us like we're a part of some freak show – well I can understand you of course you're a mudblood -"

"I think we need to establish some ground rules." She said talking loudly over him.

"And I don't give a damn about what you think." He shot back.

"Well there's some assertiveness for you. If we want to benefit the most from these study sessions I say we need to establish some ground rules." She repeated with such an unwavering tone that commanded discipline.

"And what rules shall they be?" He asked in mock interest.

"One: I will no longer tolerate you referring to me as 'Mudblood' "

"That's just stating fact Mudblood because you are indeed a M- "

"May I repeat Rule one -"

"Merlin I'm not deaf. Fine Ground Rule two stay as far from me as possible, I just bought these robes I have no intention of burning them tomorrow."

"Rule three," She continued ignoring his comment, "We need to discuss the focus areas of study."

"Why the hell are _you_ calling all the shots Granger? I too am a part of this -" He scowled deeply, "- Partnership, so I believe I have a say."

"You are entitled to have that say so say it and quit wasting time." She said firmly in a greatly agitated tone. Her contempt and tone of voice provoked anger within him.

"My opinion is not a waste of time!" He yelled glaring at her. "In fact my opinion is more substantial and matters more than what yours does so I suggest you stop acting like the Mistress of Magic and shut your filthy mouth!"

Her cheeks flushed red with anger as her nostrils flared dangerously. "My opinion matters to the equal amount that your does in this partnership! I am not acting like the Mistress of Magic and your mouth is exceedingly filthier than what mine will ever be! What with all the garbage that exits it I'm astounded that – You know what? You don't even deserve to be here! You did not earn the honour of this opportunity so _I_ suggest _you_ take your leave!"

In his anger Malfoy stood up. "You're just jealous that I better you in Potions!"

She then stood up also. "You do not better me in Potions!" She said, her voice rising to a shrill cry worthy of Pansy Parkinson. "Snape is just a biased git!"

"You simply refuse to accept the truth, I better you in Potions"

"No! _You_ refuse to accept the truth!" She yelled jabbing him in the chest forcefully with her index finger. He did not lose his balance nor did he step back. But his eyes now shone ablaze with fury.

"May I repeat the second rule! DO. NOT. TOUCH. ME!"

For once Hermione was glad that they both were situated towards the rear end of the Library or she could swear Madame Pince would have granted them tediously grave detentions for yelling so loudly. By this time Hermione was so agitated and enraged by the mere sound of his voice that she did the only thing that she could do. She whipped out her wand.

"SILENCIO!"

Malfoy was silenced immediately.

"That's much better." She sighed and picked up and closed her _Advanced Potions _book. Malfoy silently retrieved his wand from the inner folds of his robes and waved it.

'_Sonorous' _

He too had mastered non-verbal spells. Hermione was gathering her things and preparing to leave when…

"Don't dare walk out on me Granger we aren't finished yet." Said a cold voice from above. Hermione looked up in perplexity. "Oh don't think you're the only one who has mastered non-verbal spells." He added cooly.

"You have the complete inability to shut up!" She yelled slamming the remainder of her books down. "Do you simply talk because you wish to annoy me or because you just like hearing the sound of your own voice?"

"A bit of both actually." He said smirking at her. "Running away? And we were just getting started."

"I am not running away, I am just avoiding you."

"Exactly you're running away."

"No I am not. You don't own me, rule me or have any claim of authority over me. So I'm staying and I'll do what I came here to do: Study." She said firmly, sitting down. Hermione was now beginning to confuse herself.

"Which was exactly what I was doing before you," He gave a slight sneer, "_graced _me with your presence."

"Please do me a favour and shut up." She snapped, she walked up to a random shelf and grazed the spines of the books lightly with her finger.

"Since you put it that way, I don't seem to have much incentive to do you a favour." He said reopening his book. Hermione then stopped at a book and lifted it off the shelf. It was thick, dusty and seemed to be heavily defaced. Though the title was still clear to make out: _Re-examining the Runes, the Deeper Insight to the Ancient Runes. _Hermione carried the heavy book back to the table and dropped it covering everything within the close vicinity with a thick blanket of dust.

Draco remained oddly tranquil. As soon as the dust cleared he spoke with what seemed like a very forced calm. "What – the- hell – was- that – for?" He seethed though his words did not sound as placid as intended. Hermione said nothing she still was dusting herself off. "What the hell was that for you clumsy little chit!" He snapped spitefully.

"I got dust on me as well you know it's not like I intended for this to happen." She replied dusting the book off.

"I'm sure you didn't but use your bloody common sense Granger! You can't just slam an old book on the table! We are in the area of the Library with the dustiest set of books!" He spoke aggressively.

"Well that's not my fault now is it?" She retorted.

"Oh so now you're shifting the blame on me?" He asked incredulously. "This is far from my fault I wouldn't waste my efforts casting the Imperius Curse on subhuman filth who aren't worthy -"

"Shut up. Just shut up." She whispered venomously. "Shut. Up" She glared at him murderously. That murderous look only reserved for him. She had only used it twice before. Before she slapped him in third year and in second year when he had first called her Mudblood. You could almost feel the hate emanating from her. They both glared at each other. Such tension filled the air. So impossibly thick tension so thick it would be easily sliced by a blade.

He ruined her mood, destroyed her opportunity to study, insulted her and had called her names. What's worse was that she let him. She let him get the best of her and that just renewed her passionate hatred for him all the more. No one could make you feel inferior without your consent, but in this case Hermione had unknowingly given him that consent and he was gloriously pulling all the strings and taking full advantage of that opportunity.

"I really hate you." She hissed.

"Honestly Mudblood I consider that a blessing." He said with an equal amount of hatred hidden within his words. Once again he had broken the first rule. "The feeling is mutual"

"I hate you, you pompous, condescending depraved bastard. You are the devil incarnate from the most inner depths of hell." She spat with such venomous hate is seemed almost preternatural.

"And you are subhuman filth which deserves to be annihilated, the pathetic unworthy vermin that brings pestilence to the world. The mud and grime the House Elves clean off my shoes, the bane of my existence you grotesque, pus-filled buck-toothed know-it-all." He said with a haughty disgust. "I can't stand you."

Hermione was rendered speechless. Never had she been so deeply insulted. She let out an audible gasp. The next second her features turned sour. Hastily she gathered her books and shoved them untidily into her bag. With great difficulty she quelled the urge to Avada him then and there but he would not get the best of her this time. She will not react and be the puppet tied helplessly to his invisible cruel strings. She would simply walk away without another word.

As he watched her prepare to leave he felt a fleeting feeling in his stomach. That familiar feeling when your stomach feels as if it were suspended when you are either in fear or are falling from a great height. Some sort of blackness suddenly robbed him of his senses he lost consciousness and collapsed.

It happened so suddenly that she didn't even notice until the loud thump indicating that Malfoy had collapsed to the floor. In shock she ran to his side. "Malfoy what the hell is wrong with you? Wake up!" She yelled. But he did not move nor stir. Hermione deliberated whether she should kick the bastard awake. He was completely motionless, except for the soft rise and fall of his smooth chest.

It was that dream, Draco had that dream or was it a memory, or perhaps a vision? Only it was much clearer now. He saw distinct characters.

_A curse…ancient…whispered and taught…there was a young boy…no more than six…two vials…one filled with a red substance…one clear and as illustrious as crystal…a curse…ancient curse…taught by a man…the father of the boy… an heir…the three chosen ones…_

He woke with a sudden jolt. "The heir, the chosen ones." He gasped as he regained consciousness. He looked to his right and found Hermione by his side.

"Malfoy are you -"

"Fine. Now leave." He said brusquely. "That's what you were about to do wasn't it?"

Hermione pursed her lips quickly stood up and stormed out of there. But before she fully was out of sight she spoke. "I'll see you the next night…or not."

Draco stared angrily after her. "Stupid bitch." He muttered. He pointed to himself and his robes and waved his wand. "Scourgify" The dust had disappeared.

"This will NOT work. It will not. Never in the entirety of my life have I ever been so insulted. Never. His usual foul mouth I can handle but this! This is a new low, even for him. Never have I been so gravely offended. How _dare_ anyone even say that to me!" Said Hermione, angrily pacing the Gryffindor Common Room while Harry and Ron sat hunched over their homework barely listening to a word she was saying. "I'm sorry Dumbledore but this will not work. I refuse to be mistreated and demeaned. I refuse to be shouted at and be toyed with!" She glanced over to the boys. "Are you even listening?"

Muffled mumbles of 'yes' and 'yeah' came in reply.

"Well I see you're really interested!" She yelled. "So we snogged and made up." She added and watched their expressions vindictively. Harry ended up spilling a bottle of ink all over his Herbology Essay and Ron, by accident, ended up ripping his page in half with the nib of his quill. Receiving her satisfaction she stomped away leaving them in her wake.

"Did I just hear what I thought I heard her say?" Asked Harry whilst trying to mend the ink damage on his Herbology Essay.

"Nah of course not, she probably was joking. I thought I heard her say that she snogged Malfoy," Chuckled Ron who was trying piece together the remnants of his homework.

"Uh, Ron?" Asked Harry apprehensively.

"Yeah?"

"She did say that she -" Harry gave a shiver of disgust, "- snogged Malfoy"

Harry had never witnessed Ron turn such a sickly green.

Hermione returned to her Head dorm in a very sour mood. She flung her bag onto her bed and took out the dusty book on Ancient Runes. She began to read away her sorrows. After what seemed like hours she put the heavy book down. She was glad that it was not a wasted night; she at least accomplished some amount of studying. She rubbed her tired eyes and massaged her temples, trying to rub her the pain away.

"Tomorrow I approach Dumbledore, we'll get this whole mess sorted out." With that she removed her uniform and dressed herself into her pyjamas. She climbed into the warm covers of her bed and succumbed to the paralysis of oblivion: a deep sleep.

Breakfast hadn't even begun. The first thing Hermione did in the morning before heading off to classes was to march straight up to the Headmaster's office. She said the password and knocked on the door.

"Enter." Said a soft voice from inside. Hermione opened the door. "Ah Miss Granger," Dumbledore greeted warmly, "To what do I owe this great pleasure?" Hermione gave a small smile, walked up to his desk and sat in a conjured chair.

"Sir, I'm afraid I must speak with you about certain matters regarding…"

"Regarding what Miss Granger?"

"Regarding the Decathlon, I fear this will not work."

"Are you saying that you're withdrawing from representing our school?" He asked looking quite concerned.

"No! No anything but that, actually I came here to discuss my arrangements with Malfoy."

"Ah…" Said Dumbledore with a sense of understanding, "Say no more Miss Granger, say no more. Please excuse me for a minute." He got up from his seat behind his desk and walked over to the fireplace. He grabbed some shimmering green sand from a pot beside it and threw it into the flames. "Severus Snape!" In no time Professor Snape's face appeared into the fire.

"You summoned me Headmaster?" He droned lazily.

"Yes would kindly please send Mr. Malfoy up here for a moment."

Hermione's mouth hung open. "Sir please I don't think that would be very necessary!" She said quickly. Dumbeldore, rising from the fireplace faced her.

"Oh but Miss Granger I think it is, I think it is _very _necessary." Said Dumbledore. Hermione looked away. In a few short minutes a knock was heard on the door.

"Come in Mr. Malfoy."

He entered with that same look of indifference on his face, but as soon as he saw Hermione his features immediately darkened. He felt the sudden urge to turn right around and slam the door behind him. "You wanted to see me Headmaster?"

"Yes Draco if you please take a seat."

Obediently Draco strode up to another conjured chair and sat in it. Dumbledore surveyed the two students sitting in front of him.

"It seems I sense some tension." He said to the two. They remained silent in reply. "I think it's safe to assume that last night did not turn out very well."

Hermione nodded shamefully while Draco still kept his silence.

"Well it was only the first night. I hope you can overcome this little hindrance. Perhaps we shall try again tomorrow night?" He asked hopefully. Draco nodded.

"Please, sir." Said Hermione, "I don't think I can do that again." Draco shot her a glare.

"You may not think you are capable Miss Granger but I know you are able." Said Dumbledore firmly. "I had hoped that the both of you would act with some sense of maturity during this time. I don't see how mindless bickering can aid you otherwise."

Hermione looked down and studied the floor, not able to meet the Headmaster's gaze. She should have listened to herself and should have been more mature.

"Would you like me to send Irma to check on the both of you every now and then while you study?" Asked Dumbledore.

Draco's head shot up. "Forgive me Headmaster but I don't think we need to be accompanied by the Librarian to simply study." He did not like to be treated like a naïve little schoolboy, who would be incapable of doing his homework without an adult's watchful gaze over his shoulder.

"Yes, but what happens between you two isn't simply studying now is it? It's something much more."

The two students shared a glance, as if to say: "What the hell is he going on about?"

"Now, on a much happier note," Dumbledore continued cheerfully, "I am pleased to announce that our Library has acquired some new books and the majority of them I am quite sure will aid you in your studies. Just simply ask Madame Pince to reserve them for you when they arrive which will be in a couple of short weeks."

Well needless to say Hermione's mood had brightened at the news of more books for her leisure and reading.

"Is that all you wish to say Miss Granger?" Asked Dumbeldore.

"Yes, sir."

"Very well, you both are dismissed. I wish to hear good news til next we meet."

Draco nodded curtly and walked off towards the door. He opened it, and it remained opened until Hermione walked through it. He made sure that his Headmaster was watching every single one of his moves. As soon as the door closed Hermione shot him a suspicious glare.

"At least I'm making an effort." He snapped. Hermione rolled her eyes and walked off into a different direction.


	3. Friendly Conversation

If you notice, the rating of this fic is M and that's mostly due to language and perhaps violence later on. Keep the reviews coming if you can, please! I don't know if I should really continue this… but anyways, enjoy

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**Chapter Three: Friendly conversation**

When Hermione had arrived from breakfast she found Harry and Ron already waiting for her with very, very dark looks on their faces. It came as to as surprise to her. As she sat down she could feel their cold gazes. She looked up and saw Malfoy enter the hall a few seconds after she did.

"I see you had an enjoyable night." Said Ron scathingly. "I noticed you and Malfoy walked into the room at the same time."

"What?"

"Have a nice time in the Library?" Harry accused with a deadly tone.

"Excuse me?"

"Perhaps your relationship moved further to Malfoy's bed?" Said Ron, roughly forking whole fried eggs into his mouth.

"What on earth are you two going on about?"

"You said you snogged him last night." Said Ron. Hermione coughed and sputtered her coffee, unfortunately the droplets landed on an unsuspecting Neville who winced slightly. She made a sound that sounded like a snort coalesced with a derisive laugh.

"Well if you were listening you would have realised that I was in fact trying in vain to capture your attention, I seem in the end to have succeeded." She smirked proudly, though halfway through it she was too caught up in her own laughter to hold such an expression. Harry and Ron shared the same look, the one they've shared a thousand times before.

"So Hermione, how was studying with the git?" Asked Harry as he (more calmly than Ron's previous egg action) forked bacon into his mouth.

"Dreadful as expected, he was being an egotistical ferret again, can't expect much from the first night." Hermione took another sip from her coffee and retrieved _Re-examining the Runes _from her bag. Ron's eyes popped open.

"Oh please do not tell me this is for a bit of _light reading_." Groaned Ron as he marvelled at the size of that impossibly large book. He often wondered if Hermione had developed muscles from carrying so many books on her back.

"No Ron this is for the decathlon." Said Hermione brusquely she flipped through the pages towards the back of the book. Harry leaned over her shoulder to take a look.

Harry began reading the book and accumulated the voice of a boring narrator from a rejected Documentary. "_The Rune of ehwaz, meaning partnership is commonly known for its odd twist of shape on the lower right side of the curve near the vertical stroke perpendicular to the base line. This Rune is often mistranslated as the Rune eihwaz which translates to defence. Though these two are very similar in shape they are distinct in difference as stated the odd twist of shape that distinguishes them both. The two Runes are derived from the old_ – What the hell! Hermione are you actually reading all this?" Asked Harry. Hermione continued scanning the pages ignoring Harry's comment. She was also acutely aware of Ron's imitation of sleep as Harry read half the paragraph.

"Wait that word…" Said Ron thoughtfully, "Isn't that, that Rune that you got so worked up about on your Owl?"

"Yes Ron it is!" Hermione said hotly, "And I still can't believe I permitted myself to lose focus and make that error. I can't believe I mis -"

"Bloody hell you're high strung!" Ron complained loudly. "It was two years ago! Get over it!"

"I am over it!" Hermione yelled defensively. "Stop poking fun at me! Just because I like to study does not give you license to pester me for the remainder of my life!" Harry edged farther and farther away from the two, it was always wise to run whilst the duration of any one of Hermione's temper tantrums.

"Who said I was poking fun at you? I was just asking - "

"Just shut up"

"No you shut up and calm down."

"I'm as calm as I want to be thank you very much."

"Well not calm enough!"

"Ron shut up and let me read."

"Hermione, _why don't you _shut up and read."

Harry rolled his eyes at the bickering two and continued eating his breakfast as if all this was a part of the norm.

"I'm trying to but you just won't shut - "

"Why don't you do the world a favour and both shut up." Said a cold voice from behind them. "Your aggravating bickering is deafening, I'm surprised Potter hasn't been driven to insanity. Potter the ridiculous company you keep is astounding." The three looked up to see Draco Malfoy sneering at them all. But before Hermione could even produce the words 'Go away' or before they could exit her mouth he swiftly turned and walked off.

"Git" Harry muttered. Hermione and Ron returned peacefully to their breakfasts, the previous argument was completely forgotten.

Draco walked back towards the Slytherin dungeons to retrieve his books for his upcoming classes. As he entered the Slytherin dungeons he was reminded of his dreams. What were they trying to tell him? Since he collapsed in the Library they were becoming slightly clearer. At any random interval of the day, memories of his dreams were re-appearing. In them he always witnessed two figures they were moving, there was a father and a son it looked like the father was trying teach the son something, perhaps a spell or incantation? Though he really didn't care, all he cared about was how to rid his mind of this nonsense or perhaps at least discover the meaning behind all this.

He reached his dorm and opened his chest and reaching for his books he found an empty vial. It was no ordinary vial. It looked ancient, perhaps an heirloom with the Malfoy crest upon it. His father had given it to him that year as an early present, he told him he must not lose it, whatever the cost or else he'll die. Though Draco didn't know why the hell his father would want to give him an empty vial, given the fact that they had hundreds at the manor. He gave the empty flask one last glance before returning to a padded green compartment inside his chest. Stowing his books into his black, leather book bag he stood and walked back to class.

It was last period during Defence Against the Dark Arts when he was struck with another recollection from his dream. Professor was just mentioning age old curses and curses that needed Potions, sometimes blood to work. Their Professor was also mentioning necromancy…he didn't what could have triggered it…

_A boy…two vials…one red…one clear…_

In seconds he snapped out of it. The vial, there was a vial, his father had given him a vial that looked freakishly exactly like the one in his dream. His dream and his life were now connected, there was no denying that and he knew it. This whole thing was just so frustrating for him, it was like an intricate jigsaw puzzle with a thousand pieces to fit together, and he just didn't know where to begin. But one thing was resolved when he walked out of that class: he was going to find out everything, he was going to find out what the hell this dream meant.

After classes he went straight down to dinner sparing no time for anything. He was to go to the Library early that day and at least try to find one book that aided him to clarify the meaning behind all of this. As soon as he finished hastily eating he grabbed his books and headed for the Library without saying a word to neither Crabbe nor Goyle, or even Pansy, who looked too bothered with her left fingernails to even care. He approached Madame Pince.

"Excuse me, but where would I find books concerning Clairvoyants and Divination?" He asked her as charmingly as he could.

"Up the back close to where you and Miss Granger are studying for the decathlon." She said curtly, she soon turned her back and walked away. Draco headed towards the back of the Library until he reached a shelf labelled: Divination. Lazily he scanned the dusty spines for anything that could help him in his predicament. He eventually encountered a book entitled: _Dream Interpretations, how to know what's coming._ Slightly interested, he lifted the book off the shelf and returned to the desk where he was to study with Hermione that night. He leaned back on the chair and opened the book and then scanned the contents. His finger landed on the last chapter: _Having the same dream? Wondering what it could tell you? _Draco flipped to the page and began reading. Time passed on lazily and it seemed as if Draco had been reading for hours though he knew his time there couldn't of exceeded more than two. Well one thing he knew for sure, this book was a load of drivel that he would not and could not give a damn about. It was a load of ridiculous sayings that made his old Professor Trelawney seem somewhat sane. According to this book, his dream suggested he was about to join the water nymphs and go frolic in the lake naked under the full moon. Like that was ever going to happen. He heard footsteps in his vicinity and checked his watch.

"Take a seat Granger."

Hermione did so promptly and stared curiously at his conspicuous reading material. "What are you reading?"

"A book, I'm quite sure you have some notion as to what that is." He drawled.

"Yes, I know it is a book, but may I inquire the title of this book?" She asked sweetly, obviously he was already testing her patience.

"And may _I_ inquire why you would want to know?" He said back with a similar tone of sweetness, though his slightly more sarcastic and malicious than hers.

"Well it's not everyday you come across your mortal enemy reading a _pink book_, you see, or perhaps it's a shade of lilac – I don't know – what colour do you think it is?" She smiled sweetly and awaited the look of mortification that was to be bestowed upon his features. And she had received it. Indeed he did look down to the cover of this dastardly book and he immediately gave a look of extreme disgust whilst he quelled the extreme urge to use it as fuel for a roaring fire. She waited patiently until he yielded.

"It's about divination if you must know." He said defensively, "and it's none of your mudblood business."

"Ooh having _scary_ nightmares?"

"Nothing of the sort."

"Taking divination?"

"God no."

"Leisure reading?"

He began to scowl. "Do I look like those Gryffindor chits? What are their names? Do I look like Brown or Patil to you?"

"So why are you reading a pink book entitled -" She craned her neck to see the cover, "- Dream Interpretations?"

"As I said, it's none of your mudblood business."

"You're going to tell me…some day."

"Let us hope that day is the day I die."

Hermione rolled her eyes. She opened her book bag and grabbed her book on Ancient Runes from the night before. As she opened it Malfoy hastily pushed his chair back. "Good lord not that again."

"Don't worry I took all the dust out of it."

"Right, and I'm about to join the nymphs and go frolic naked in the lake under the full moon." He opened his book bag and retrieved another, more sensible looking book.

"What?"

"Never mind mudblood."

"Stop calling me that, I hate it when you do that." She snapped, her mood growing darker and darker.

"I know, it's the fact that I'm a pureblood you see." He stated confidently.

"Incest!" She screeched. He scoffed and raised his nose high in the air.

"My father as you know is a Malfoy, while my mother's maiden name incidentally is Black. Two families, two names: no incest. So don't even attempt to accuse me of such frivolous rubbish."

Hermione remained uncomfortably silent after that. Of course she had seen his genealogy on the Black family tree back at the Headquarters. "What book are you reading?" She snapped. He stopped reading and checked the front cover.

"I can't believe you don't even know the title to -"

"Extension, Standard book of spells grade seven" He interrupted. She nodded.

"Achievements in Charming." She stated. He nodded.

"Then at least we're covering the same subject." He said. "I say we ought to cover Defence Against the Dark Arts next -"

"Of course," said Hermione rolling her eyes. "You want to study the Dark Arts because you're already frolicking with those Death Eaters."

Draco shifted uncomfortably and avoided her gaze. "Shut up Granger."

"Ooh Malfoy has a weakness." She mocked. Draco's expression immediately turned unreadable. He was not about to show her what he was feeling. With a smart girl like her she would find out easily.

"Enlighten me, what weakness is that?" He asked in a very subdued voice, masking his anger towards her. He leaned back on his chair and rested his legs on the table as an act of condescension.

"Confessions of a shady past?" She asked.

"My past is none of your business, Granger."

"On the defensive I see."

"I have every right to be." He said shortly and left it that, evincing that he ended the conversation. As the minutes droned on Hermione felt the need for some conversation though she didn't expect much. In the deafening silence Malfoy's mood seemed to have been lifted as he indulged in different books. Though he was beginning to grow increasingly tiresome. In everything she said or did he searched for any inclination of vulnerability. Though she was very self-assured he still manoeuvred through the loopholes in her speech and struck her down with his insolent tongue and, _enjoyed_ it. But she remained obstinate against him, and it was very tiring.

Quite often they would argue about different facts or opinions but that was to be expected. But when those two hours were up Hermione was never so eager to leave the Library.

"He's so annoying!" Hermione exasperated as she collapsed into one of the squishy chairs by the fire, in the Gryffindor common room.

"Did you expect anything better?" Asked Ron who was viciously scribbling out a Potions essay. Hermione looked ready to throw her entire book bag at him, but decided against it realising that she might knock the poor boy out cold.

"Where's Harry?" She asked suddenly. Ron jabbed the pile of books in front of him with his quill. From what Hermione could see, tufts of black hairs were protruding from the top of the pile. Evidently Harry was just as busy as Ron was even with free periods. Hermione stood from her place at the fire and loomed over their shoulders, examining their essays for any mistakes or miscalculations. With her wand she started to tap any segment of the page she thought considered revising and the words magically rearranged themselves. She did considerably speed up the process of their essay completion.

For the next two weeks the conversation between the two work-partners had been subdued to silence and the two were able to – god forbid - cooperate somewhat productively without actually uttering a word. Though it was glaringly obvious that they still despised each other's presence. There were often times when arguments had erupted over silly miscalculations on the page but it was left to that. Not to mention the number of times they engaged each other in intense glaring matches where neither was claimed victor. At times it took almost all of Hermione's self-control not to lash out or even slap him when his attitude had risen to the surface of his usually cold demeanour. Not that he was the only one that evoked anger, he usually had to restrain himself from yelling 'mudblood' at the top of his lungs whenever she came close to yielding his impatient temper. But of course the both of them revelled and found pleasure in provoking the other, it was the only compensation in having to endure each other's presence. It was their little game.

Slowly Hermione trudged up to the Library feeling exhausted and dishevelled after a hard day's work. It was a scorching hot day full of exams, complicated incantations, spells and not to mention an absolute dreadful double potions. Perhaps it was simply an extremely bad case of 'Monday-itis.' When reaching the Library doors, she exhaled deeply after realising the pain of her splitting headache. Her head was not the only part of her anatomy that ached. The bearing weight of her book bag did not help her disposition either and with every passing step her bag strap seemed to dig deeper and deeper within her aching back.

Tiredly she stomped heavily through the Library towards the very back - it was an agonizing walk. She began to mutter complaints under her breath, and just to make herself feel better she blamed Malfoy for all of it. "Damn Malfoy, had to choose the back … heavy bag … migraine … insufferable…all his fault… damn him for choosing the back -"

"Got something to share there, Granger?" A snide voice entered her head. Hermione kept walking as the object of her blame came to greet her. "Well hello to you too." He remarked sarcastically at her non-existent salutation. She grunted in reply as they reached their destination. He smirked and sat down. "So, how's life treating you?" He asked pleasantly. He was faking his mood to get her annoyed. She merely glared at him and allowed her heavy book bag to drop to the floor. She sighed happily as the weight was emancipated from her shoulder.

"Do you carry a tonne of bricks, or are you that dedicated to being an insufferable know-it-all?" Draco asked her as he eyed her bag, which had been stretched tremendously to its limits, to the point where he honestly thought the seams were going to rip apart any minute.

"Shut up." She snapped. Clearly, she was not in a good mood.

"Looks like if you fit another book in there, you'll be finding yourself in Hogsmeade purchasing a damn trunk to fit all those books you carry."

"_I said: shut up!" _Hermione huffed while Draco only smirked. "Honestly it was much more beneficial when your mouth was closed. I was only too naïve to hope that it remained that way."

"Don't get your hopes up with me mudbl – Granger." He said snidely. Hermione glared at him as he almost broke one of their ground rules.

"Indeed." She said darkly. Quickly she reached into her bag and pulled out a book and started to take notes from it. She relied on her work to drive her mind away from the devil that sat across the small table in front of her. The first half hour was tediously dull as the sun began to shrink lower and lower into the horizon casting a faint pink glow from the small window on the wall nearest to them. By some coincidence the two yawned, lowered their quills and leaned back into their chairs.

"What's the time mudblood?" Draco asked tiredly. Hermione shot him a glare in the use of the foul name.

"It's only been half an hour… _ferret_…"

"Shut up _mudblood. _Don't ever call me that again." He said firmly. It could have been her imagination but Hermione could have sworn she witnessed a faint pink tinge on Malfoy's cheeks.

"Don't ever call me mudblood again." She retorted. He scoffed.

"Whatever." He drawled looking away at the window. The sun had set now, blanketing the entire area in darkness. Through the darkness the moon shone high and bright and streamed delicately through the small window, until it was challenged by the yellow luminescent glow of the burning candles. He sighed and slouched in his chair. "It's a bloody hot night." He commented dryly.

"mmhm" Hermione responded in agreement. Sighing sightly, she lifted her quill and continued taking notes from the text. Draco rolled his eyes, got up and strode to the window. While Hermione scratched away with her quill, Draco unlatched the window and opened it hoping for a cool nightly breeze. Wincing, he received none. He returned to the table and removed his outer Slytherin robe, placed it on the chair and loosened his tie. When he was down to unbuttoning his top shirt button Hermione looked up.

"What are you doing?" She snapped.

"What's it look like I'm doing, Granger?" He asked as he placed his tie on top of his robe.

"Stripping?" She replied with a tone of accusation.

"Don't bet on it Granger. You're not _that_ lucky. In case you didn't hear me, it happens to be a hot night. I believe this is natural behaviour to cool oneself down. Or do you muggles do the opposite and pack it on?" He said as he returned to his seat.

"We muggles aren't that different Malfoy." Hermione replied scathingly. Draco simply looked at her, looking almost ready to laugh.

"Not that different are we?" He mocked.

"Shut up Malfoy, I've heard it all before. But I remain where I stand. Aside from a few differences we are not that different." She continued to scratch a sentence with her quill.

"_A few differences?_" He chortled.

"Can you just shut up and get back to work?" Hermione said irritably. She dipped her quill into the inkpot, and continued writing.

"No. I will not."

"What?"

"I will take a break." He said smugly as he slouched further into his chair.

"It's barely been half an hour and already you've decided to take a break?" She asked, finally looking up at him.

"Your point…?"

Hermione looked slightly taken aback by his frivolousness and disregard to the seriousness of these study sessions. But when she thought about it, she found there really was no real reason why he shouldn't relax a bit.

"It's just, it's just a little early that's all." She mumbled as she continued to write. He glanced over to her parchment and squinted at her miniscule writing.

"It is called taking notes Granger." He remarked snidely. Hermione looked up to him.

"Yeah, and…?"

"You're writing a bloody essay. What are you going to do next? Hand it in to McGonagall and ever so patiently wait for an 'O'?"

"Well I discovered the need to take down as much information to compensate for your lack of contribution to this whole thing." She stated promptly. Draco looked seriously offended at this and quelled the urge to grab his quill and throw it at her.

"My lack of contribution?" He asked, "_My lack of contribution?_" He asked again. "Forgive me if I'm mistaken, but who arrives here first? Who remains silent and studies just as hard as you do?" – his voice began to rise – "Who also spends hours in this bloody library doing nothing but reading?"

Hermione did not reply. So he continued to rant on.

"As I thought! Me! So shut up. And while you're at it, stop assuming ridiculous situations that simply grant you the opportunity to flaunt your godforsaken intelligence!" Draco folded his arms and glared at her. Rising to the challenge, Hermione glared back. This was proven to be the longest glaring match yet. Soon enough Hermione's eyes began to water, thus obliging her to the insane need to blink, and when Malfoy was determined, boy that guy could hold an intense gaze. A clap of thunder was heard beyond the horizon and the two shifted their gaze towards the window.

"It's a storm." Hermione commented.

"I'm well aware of that." He stood and moved to close the window.

"Wait, don't." Hermione called.

"And why the hell not?"

"Because if there's a storm cold wind most likely will be blowing through -"

"Yeah and so will torrents of rain." He interrupted. Again he lifted his arm to close it.

"Not necessarily."

Draco sighed in agitation and turned to her. "Fine. Explain."

"Well you don't necessarily know which direction the wind is blowing in so…"

"Right. But it's still a bloody hot night." He complained as he returned to his seat.

And before she knew it, Hermione found herself agreeing with him. "Can't argue with you there."

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing."

From then on it was apparent that Draco's short-lived 'break' had concluded since he lifted his book and began to read again. Hermione didn't complain, she found comfort in the silence without having to think of a good comeback or scathing remark to stick to him. With a small smile she resumed her work hoping that Malfoy would always remain this mature. Perhaps Dumbledore was right. There probably still was some hope left for the guy. Although, it _was_ a small margin of hope.

Another hour passed and Hermione decided it was time that she paused from her work. Dropping her quill and rubbing her eyes, she relaxed her aching finger muscles. The storm had now reached them and rain fell on the castle grounds in torrents. The fresh smell of wet earth and the humble serenade of raindrops breaking the surface of the once placid lake was enough to lull her to a calming sleep. But she was Hermione Granger, she never fell asleep during her studies. Allowing her eyes to wander, she aimlessly looked about the room for anything to catch her interest. Unconsciously her eyes fell on the handsome blonde situated in front of her. It was then she realised, she had never actually _looked _at him before. She glared at him numerous times but she had never _looked _at him. Whenever she cast her eyes upon him he always gave the impression of the snobby rich kid who was too up himself to care about anyone else. But now seeing him in such a state, with his Slytherin robe off and with a few shirt buttons undone, he almost looked … well … normal. She had never really considered the guy normal before and for some reason it was surprising. He was simply the mortal enemy. Hermione sat back in her chair and picked up her book again. He did look pretty okay in a boyish kind of way, although regal and sophisticated all the same.

She suddenly snapped back to reality. And scolded herself for allowing her thoughts to wander. Especially since they were about Malfoy. She shook her head to rid herself of these thoughts and concentrated on the words in front of her. She was reading but she wasn't absorbing any information. So really there was no point. Malfoy was scratching away as he should be with strands of his soft blonde hair falling into his face. She didn't know why but she sat quietly and watched him through her eyelids as she pretended to read. She knew that she would never approve of this collocation, but like the weather, she was steadily becoming acquainted with it.

"Granger, I know I sport impeccably good looks but I think your eyes would be put to more use if you studied the books rather than my face." He said suddenly. Immediately she shifted her gaze.

"Who said I was staring?" She said rather snappishly, turning slightly pink due to embarrassment.

"I didn't." He replied shortly. Ah crap, she thought tiredly, he caught me. "Got you didn't I?" He added after a few moments of her fretful thinking. When she didn't reply in her obvious embarrassment, he smirked.

"Oh for heaven's sake are you a freaking Legilimens?" She muttered in agitation.

"No just occlumens." He stated simply.

"OCCLUMENS?" She gasped. My, that was a surprise indeed. "Really?"

"Are you deaf Granger?"

"I heard you right but, really?" She was having doubts in believing him. She didn't think that he of all people could master something that Harry himself couldn't. She soon figured that he was probably lying to make himself appear bigger and more important than he really was.

"And I'm not lying." He said as if he were verifying her unspoken speculations. Hermione was really leaning towards the idea that he was a Legilimens rather than an occlumens. He seemed to be able to read her mind. Then again this was Malfoy, he probably was lying either way. Although he didn't have that much reason to lie. Hermione chose not to decide whether he spoke truth or not, instead she yawned and asked him of the time.

"Time's up." He said.

"Oh… well see you next time."

The session had ended differently compared to the previous nights. It ended on an almost happy note. It was normal. She wasn't leaving in a huff, or storming away dreaming of the many different ways to maim him. She left almost politely, awkward, but polite.

and that's another chapter over... I really want to shorten these, they're taking forever to write... review!


	4. Appealing

Another one of my failing attempts to write good fiction. Well here is another chapter and I promise the actual plot will start soon. I seriously need to write it all out before I forget everything. Well, I can only say one thing: enjoy! …. Hopefully…

**Chapter Four – Appealing **

It was another day in the School life of Hermione Granger, working tirelessly in the Library on an incredulously long Transfiguration essay and her Ancient Rune translations. It was nearing the end of the free period when Madame Pince quietly walked over to her favoured student and sharply tapped her on the shoulder. Hermione jerked in her seat. She was too deep in concentration to realise that people had actually occupied her surroundings.

"Wha - ?" She gasped in surprise, "Oh, Madame Pince…"

"Oh, so sorry to disrupt you dear, forgive me but the new books I ordered are to arrive later tonight, will you or Mr. Malfoy be available to retrieve them from me?" She asked.

"Oh yes! Those!" Hermione lit up as she clasped her hands together, remembering the words her Headmaster had said two weeks before. "Yes I will be able to pick them up when they arrive. I am highly anticipating that these new books will come to great use in future. No need to worry I will definitely be here tonight." Hermione assured her excitedly.

As the day progressed on Hermione soon realised her classes were over and she made her way to Gryffindor Tower. She exhaled deeply as she sank into the squishy chairs by the fire. Ginny joined her on the floor while Harry and Ron seated themselves by the fire also.

"You know," Hermione yawned, "It's a crying shame that Fred and George are gone…"

"Well their shop is doing pretty well their getting richer and richer by the minute." Ginny piped up as she unwrapped a Chocolate Frog and shoved the contents into her mouth. "I do miss them though…"

"Yeah," agreed Ron. Harry nodded also. Seeing as he was Quidditch Captain he did miss Gryffindor's two best beaters, not to mention the (not entirely delectable but ever so useful) skiving snack boxes. Although he knew Hermione would gravely disapprove of skiving off class in a NEWT year.

"It's a shame, I could use a good joke right about now." Hermione sighed and yawned.

"Night Hermione." Harry chimed. It was the last thing she heard. Very thankful that there was no pending assignments and that she had completed all her homework, she dreamily drifted off to a sleep to the comforting cackle of burning wood and familiar sounds of the Gryffindor Common Room.

When she woke, the moon was high in the air and the fire was dying down. Some chatter could still be heard here and about and she could hear crickets chirping outside. She woke from a very fitful sleep very unaware of how much time had elapsed. Rubbing her eyes, she checked her watch. Eight-forty five, it read. It took a few seconds for it to fully register in her mind. She suddenly realised.

"Malfoy!" She yelled. Bounding from the chair, she bolted out of the portrait hole and ran as fast as she could towards the library. "O shit, o shit, the books! Madame Pince is going to kill me!" Hermione panicked as she skipped three stairs at a time. Waywardly bursting through the Library doors she ran to the back of the library almost knocking into people, bookshelves and the books themselves. She skidded to a halt at their study table, where she found a sitting Malfoy already reading a book that belonged to a very new looking stack beside him. "Oh Crap, jeez I'm sorry I forgot to pick up those books from Madame Pince and…oh…"

Draco held one of the books up to her. "It's called initiative Granger." He said as he smirked. "I saw those books arrive earlier so I figured that I should pick them up."

"Oh, right, um ok." She said as she sat down breathlessly.

"Call me old fashioned Granger but I had the eccentric idea that I was doing the right thing."

"Well you were…" whispered Hermione almost inaudibly, "er…thankyou…" She lifted a hard covered blue book from the pile and opened it.

"Oh please, spare me." He droned as he leaned back and propped up his legs on the table. "Why are you late?" He asked suddenly, looking reproachful. He began to scowl. "Head Girl duties I presume?" He asked with a hint detestation within his voice.

"You…could say that." She lied. If he ever knew the real truth, he would never, ever as long as he lived, ever let her live it down. "There was a bit of an argument with a few students." She explained, a clearly false story conjured from the top of her head. "I – I had to go and… help."

"Never thought I'd see the day, trouble in Paradise. The saintly Gryffindors up for a nightly brawl, how highly uncharacteristic of you." Said Draco. He still looked annoyed at her tardiness even with her fabricated explanation. He gave a humourless chuckle. "Lack of contribution…"

"Don't need to elaborate, I'm late and I'm aware of that so let's get on with it." Said Hermione brusquely. "Are the books any good?"

"You're avoiding the subject. You just don't want little old Malfoy to taint your reputation, Hermione Granger beat the record, forty-five minutes late – you might have outdone the Weasel Twins on this one Granger - but yeah, the books are quite informative." He replied tersely. Hermione had accidentally creased the page she was holding on to in order to stop herself from pummelling him into the ground. After relieving herself of her anger, the usual silence ensued. All the while Hermione tried to divert her attentions by trying to think of a topic to initiate conversation and she was more than sure they were both past the stage of 'small talk.' All their previous conversations had been strictly work-related or consisted mainly of insults.

"So…" she mused, "Are you attending the next Hogsmeade weekend?" she asked, she didn't know she asked him this completely random question, but it was the first thing that popped into her head. Though the silence was comfortable, these study sessions were dull.

"If this is your attempt at conversation, you're wasting your breath Granger." He replied, in an almost bored tone. Looking affronted Hermione snapped her head away.

"You're such a git." She exclaimed in great annoyance.

"And you're such a Gryffindor."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you're so stupid." He stated simply. Hermione stared at him, mouth hanging slightly open. No one had ever called her stupid before, in fact it was the exact opposite. It was almost a ridiculous insult for someone to call her that.

"I'm not stupid Malfoy, being here is proof enough."

"Well you're stupid enough to think that I would participate in civil conversation with _you_." Draco closed his book, placed it on the desk and picked up another one from the pile feeling satisfied with himself.

"Jeez, have you no respect?"

"What on earth gave you the slightest notion that I'll ever be willing to respect you?" He asked looking surprised, she almost seemed as thick as Crabbe or Goyle. Well maybe not _that _thick. He did (quite reluctantly) grant her some credit. Her answer to his question came in the form of one word.

"Hope."

Her answer had really taken him aback. She actually had _hoped_ in this sort of situation? This girl was more surprising than he thought. "Why do you have to be so… so…" He trailed off as he tried to find a word.

"So, what?"

"So… good." He finished.

Hermione looked confused. "I don't know whether to treat that as a compliment or a question."

"It's annoying." He added. "You and this whole 'noble Gryffindor goody-two-shoes' concept, it's bloody infuriating."

"Don't blame me for believing that everyone has a right to respect…" she said softly, "That is until they do something to lose that respect." She glared at him.

"Well I believe that respect has to be earned." He said. "So if supposedly had lost your respect, why did you still expect -"

"There is always hope Malfoy," she interjected, "Remember that."

"Spoken like a true Gryffindor."

"Well forgive me for not being cynical." She spat disdainfully. She sighed in hopelessness and tucked a stray tendril behind her ear. _So much for the conversation idea… _Perhaps their history ran too deep, though she didn't really hate him as much as she used to. Probably in being around him more than she would usually be, she allowed herself to be tolerant of him. She got used to him. Hermione flipped the page and continued reading. It was probably already too late to try to be civil with him. There had already been too much conflict for such a bond to take place. She practically slapped him in third year, it was probably being silly to hope and yet she did. A few minutes dragged by and neither had spoken a word.

"I don't think I'm going…" Draco said thoughtfully, finally breaking the silence. Hermione looked up.

"What…?" she asked, startled.

"I don't think I'm going to the next Hogsmeade weekend." He said again.

"Wha – Oh! Oh!" Hermione said in realisation. She started to smile.

"Yes, in response to your question." Said Draco as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Yes, yes I know…and, thankyou."

"For what?"

"Trying." She continued to smile radiantly at him. Draco looked down from her smile and tried to resume reading. He felt very uncomfortable under her smile, she had never smiled at him before. He tried as hard as he could not to glance at her because when he did she would still be smiling at him. As much as he really hated and loathed admitting, it was a pretty smile. Her eyes sparkled and her face shone radiantly. God it was infectious.

Hermione saw the ends if his mouth twitch. Which only caused her to smile even wider. It was the closest thing she had come to see him smile. Hermione, feeling satisfied with herself was in quite a pleasant mood for the time pending.

"Stop it Granger. You're beginning to look like a maniacal ape." He snapped. Grumbling, he cursed himself for almost allowing himself to smile. Immediately he exercised the control to set his features blank. Although the moment had passed the suppressing atmosphere of cold tension between the two was now void. For the remaining time of the session they remained relatively silent. Aside from begrudgingly taking the first step of a relationship:

Small talk.

It was a few days afterwards in Care of Magical Creatures with Hagrid. It was a hot day in the Forbidden Forest and Hagrid actually had the nerve to once again (with some encouragement), teach them about thestrals considering the absolute disaster it turned out to be two years previously. Evidently Hagrid had received an anonymous tip from a certain Headmaster, and it was apparent that due to the upcoming rise in Voldemort's power and imminent attack, thestrals were now to be included in their NEWT exams.

But due to Hagrid's rather – to put it lightly – poor teaching reputation, not many of the students were as thoroughly interested in the topic as Harry, Ron and Hermione. Most were afraid or too lazy to listen to Hagrid's explanations. Though this was deeply discouraging to Hagrid he still went on.

But of course Draco being Draco, he stood towards the back of the class making purposefully loud whispers of criticism and snide remarks whenever he could manage it. This was more than discouraging to Hagrid it was maddening. Eventually Hagrid's patience with him was thinning. Upon hearing his next remark, he cried out.

"Got something to share with the class there, Malfoy?"

He ceased his speech immediately and muttered. "No… sir."

"No I insist, tell us." Hagrid urged on.

"It's nothing sir."

"No tell us so you can stop talking and I can get back tuh teachin' ?" He roared. Draco wore a disgruntled expression.

"Fine…" He said. "How dare you allow that savage herd of possessed swine in my presence? Do you all wish us dead man?"

The expression that then happened upon the giant's face made even Draco almost sympathetic.

"How could you do that!" Hermione yelled as she dragged him by the arm half and hour later towards secluded tree. It was after class, Hermione had whispered a quick 'I'll be right back' to Harry and Ron before surreptitiously grabbing Draco and somewhat violently dragging him away.

"How could I do what?" He snapped back, looking very annoyed as he fixed his robes.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about! I don't believe you! Stop victimising him, he's only trying to teach!" Hermione yelled, looking very red in the face as a fire in her eyes burned.

"And he's doing a very poor job of it." Draco commented wryly. "I could learn more from the old bat up in that divination tower than from that brainless oaf -"

Reaching to the point of her temper, Hermione whipped out her wand. "Say. That. Again." She threatened dangerously. She had scary murderous glint in her eye again. But Draco remained stoic and calm.

"Why are you so mad Granger?" He asked as he folded his arms.

She knew exactly why she was mad, he had been continuously insulting Hagrid one of her best friends. But on the contrary that was Malfoy and she had already gotten used to it over the years. Why had his petty insults got to her now? This was how he usually was, why was she so worked up? Hermione couldn't find an answer to that.

"Because of our study sessions, are you expecting something different? Something more?" He asked. He was right on the money. Hermione lowered her wand and looked away. She could have been asking herself the same question. Did she really expect him to have changed? Did she really think that a bit of civilised conversation would change his opinions on everything else, including her? She wasn't that much a of a fool but she did expect civility to the least. In the need to answer him, she spoke.

"I…" She didn't know what to say, she just held an expression of extreme disappointment. In seeing this, Draco felt an unpleasant twinge inside of him. "I had hoped…"

"Don't waste your time Granger." He said wisely. Hermione looked down and realised he was right, there was nothing she could do. Draco Malfoy would always remain to be Draco Malfoy, his polite conversation could not alter that fact.

She hoped in vain. That was her innocent quality, hoping to see the best in people. But with Malfoy, he didn't want her to see the best of him and at times her vision was obscured by hate.

"Well – you still shouldn't have done that to Hagrid!" She yelled without anything else to say.

"I always do that -"

"Well it's not right so stop. You're bullying him that's what, and it's… it's my duty as Head Girl to stop you." Hermione said indignantly. Though she was not as confident as she seemed. Malfoy seemed as if he owned the world, strutting about the place. His self-confidence was monstrous compared to hers at the moment. The very sentence 'I am a Malfoy' seemed to be reason enough for him.

"Oh I quiver with fear." He said, sarcasm hanging on to every one of his words.

"You're so despicable." She huffed as she crossed her arms. If Draco Malfoy was an undignified, cheesy romantic type of guy he would of admitted at that moment, that when Hermione was pissed she looked sort of… he wouldn't dare call her cute, but…appealing. He'd feel better complimenting a Blast-ended skrewt rather than complimenting her. Hermione faced him again. "Look," she said bracingly, " I know Hagrid's teaching methods aren't exactly interesting but -"

"That's the understatement of the century." He interrupted which won him a glare.

"But you could…" She sighed. She couldn't ask him to try being nice again. That small margin of hope that she harboured for him was slowly diminishing. She may have gotten to know him better but he was still rotten through and through. "Forget it. We have an Arithmancy Class to attend."

"And you wouldn't want to be _terribly_ _late_ for that." He mocked, remembering their previous meeting when she arrived forty-five minutes after the agreed time. Saying that she Head Girl duties, but he knew better, that Granger girl was a terrible liar. She couldn't keep a straight face to save her life.

"Shut up Malfoy!" she yelled angrily. If he hadn't riled her up so much already she wouldn't have yelled at him with such vehemence. Swerving on her heel she stomped off while Draco casually trailed behind her. Malfoys did not stomp. However, he did try to annoy her where he saw fit. Which was actually the entire way up to their Arithmancy class.

That night when Hermione entered the Library, she did not know what to expect from him. There was one piece of information that she had gained from Malfoy during this experience: he was unpredictable. As hard and unbelievable that may have sounded, he was. Insults and condescension was to be expected, but his personality was not something you could define very easily.

As she rounded an umpteenth corner, his smooth voice could be heard. "Evening, Granger."

"Evening." She said shortly in return. The new books from Madam Pince had already been laid out on the table and had been meticulously laid out according to which topic they covered. There were only about ten books to the most. "Did you lay all these out?" she asked. A short 'yes' was his reply.

"I like to be organised." He added.

"Thank you." Said Hermione. Draco looked up at her for a moment, she could have sworn she saw a flick of emotion flitter across his features, but he glanced back down. "I expected there to be more" she said commented airily.

"There's at least ten books here and you're telling me you expected more?" He asked, looking slightly astounded. "God, you are a bookworm."

"Well, yes." She said completely ignoring his last remark. "They made it seem as if they had an entire library for us to research." Hermione said, with a tinge of disappointment in her voice, however, her disappointment was different to the one that Draco had experienced earlier that day. It wasn't the type that made you feel twinges of guilt, the type that seemed to say 'you let me down.' It was the type that said 'oh well, tomorrow's a new day.'

Draco listlessly skimmed through the new books, they had been informative but nothing really had spiked his interest. He was still not at ease with the fact that earlier, Hermione had made him feel guilty and that was enough to put him to shame, the other fact that he actually found her somewhat appealing lead him to this next sense. His eyes fell upon her. Her face was always occupied with deep, caring emotion whenever he looked upon it. He had never met someone who blatantly wore their emotions on their sleeve, without either the will or self-control to hide it. It was obvious that Hermione was never taught to conceal her emotions, or hide them away. She was so carefree. He watched as a look of thoughtfulness came upon her features as she tucked a stray curly lock behind her ear. Because it was of the words in front of her, or something else, was unknown to him.

She looked so innocent.

Something, he certainly was not.

The girl in front of him was looking more grotesquely appealing accompanied with the annoyingly romantic, yet strangely eerie glow of the candles. He was mesmerised. It was in this private revelation that Draco tore away his gaze from her and continually berated and reminded himself of his beliefs and her inferiority. But as much as he had reminded himself that she was a 'mudblood' so to speak, it gave him little confidence. Although his face did not display it but at the moment, Draco was practically furious with himself. He was furious for actually thinking that the Head Girl, the disgusting little mudblood, was well… He did not dare repeat it.

Hermione slowly glanced up at him. She knew he was looking at her, she could feel his gaze. At first she had considered it to be a glare but his gaze felt far from hostile. He wasn't looking at her now but she knew he had just stopped. He looked so normal and boyish as he wrote notes on his parchment, with a few strands of his shimmering silvery-blonde hair falling into his pale face and his grey eyes written with concentration. In the pale moonlight his hair seemed to shine like silk, and made his eyes look soulful, yet cold at the same time. She didn't know how it was possible, but he had managed it. Hermione watched through her eyelashes as he wrote his notes with meticulous care. She really, really loathed to admit this to herself as if it were poison on her tongue but she found it somewhat… appealing. She was mesmerised. Entranced by his aura and filled with intrigue wanting to discover what lay behind his cold eyes. She suddenly snapped out of her gaze. If at that moment, anyone asked her if she was crazy, she would have confidently and enthusiastically answered 'yes.' Her thoughts were beyond belief and too damn insane to be classified as her own. But… they were.

Unable to resist temptation he chanced another glance as she absent-mindedly thumbed through her hair and unknowingly moistened her lips. At that he forced his eyes down, but it was not long before they soon returned to her. He watched as the candlelight illuminated her features yet cast light and dreamlike shadows on her face. He watched her eyes as they danced across the page, full of interest, innocence and care. She was strong, brave and independent but vulnerable all the same. How this mudblood in front of him managed to deviously creep into his thoughts, he didn't know. But he was willing to declare himself confounded and was more than willing to check himself into the insanity ward at St. Mungos if the opportunity ever presented itself. Insanity and lack of mental health, he figured, was the only feasible and sensible explanation to his impossible thoughts.

Furtive glances ensued between them. It was only five minutes afterwards when either one of them was able to concentrate. Hermione read on. It was a very interesting chapter in her book about the Dark Arts. It was fascinating filled with gore, prophecies and ancient rituals used by the wizards of old. She chanced upon a very interesting and intriguing prophecy, which she had the urge to tell her partner about.

"Malfoy?" she asked.

"What do you want?" He snapped. She rolled her eyes.

"Cut the crap. I just wanted to show you this really interesting prophecy with the Dark Arts." She snapped back and shoved the book across towards him. He raised an eyebrow.

"Must be fascinating." He drawled with sarcasm. She shot him a glare.

"Shut your mouth and read."

Taking an annoyed breath and rolling his eyes he turned the book around so it was facing him the right way up. He read. In a few short minutes he stopped and slowly lifted his gaze from the book and up to her. He was slack-jawed and looked absolutely aghast. A dawn of realisation came across his features. In a wavering shock, he spoke.

"Granger, I think you've found something."

- A little semi-cliffhanger, well Christmas is just around the corner and if you're feeling generous, I rather like reviews they're much like beautifully wrapped Christmas presents. hint hint


	5. Abyssus Erigo

Thanks again to those who have reviewed! Thanks to**: frozenroses, sunfire-moondesire, lilhouseelf, inmydreamworld and Pirouette028**! Thank you – I love reviews, they're the only thing that keeps me going, any ways here's another chapter and the plot is starting to form… hopefully you will enjoy!

**Chapter Five: Abyssus Erigo**

_Of all the diabolical and dangerous rituals preformed in the magical world, the Abyssus Erigo ritual is without doubt the most rare and evil of them all. There has been no actual recording of this ritual-prophecy to have ever been preformed; the only evidence is the feverish ramblings of Seers and the mystification of centaurs. _

_Though most experts believe this ritual does not exist and believe that it is not possible, some believe that this ritual may actually be feasible. Many believe that this is a curse, handed down from generation to generation but more over, it has been debated whether this ritual is even a ritual, or perhaps a prophecy or even a combination of both, due to the fact that this has been prophesised for thousands of years .It is foretold that in very ancient and historical pureblood wizarding families, within every sixth generation lies the key. The key to raising the underworld, the realm more commonly known as: hell._

_It is said that the details of this ritual is taught to those who are of the sixth generation at a very young age, to be imprinted in the mind, to lay forgotten in the recesses of the subconscious until they are of age to preform this ritual where the memory may resurface unknowingly as either visions or dreams to the chosen sixth. _

_To preform the ritual, it requires three vials of blood; two of those will be from the blood of one chosen from every sixth generation. To gather this may take twelve hundred years, this is majority of the reason why there has been no recording of this ritual, for it takes six generations to produce one vial of blood. The third vial must belong to the one who must preform the ritual, for the owner of this blood is granted the power to command the forces that rise from the depths… _

That was most of what Draco could recall from the textbook, he would have had it with him at this very moment but Hermione would not release tenacious her grip from that book because it was such an interesting read. He wanted answers and he wanted them now. This Abyssus Erigo ritual, prophecy, whatever it was – he knew it tied in with his dreams. These dreams, these visions had been becoming even more frequent as the weeks flew by. Why, it explained it there itself. Was he really connected in some twisted and diabolical contrive designed to raise hell? Or was this some really sick, twisted joke? He knew his family dated back centuries, but he didn't think it would be that old. Eventually, he resolved to look it up in the Library. There _must _be at least one book in there that contained more information inside it other than the one that Granger had greedily snatched away from him.

During his free period after lunch he set off to the Library. Making a quick check to make sure the coast was clear, he cast an invisibility spell on himself and entered the Restricted Section. He highly doubted that a book containing some of the darkest rituals known to man would be on a regular shelf for all innocent First-years to see.

His search began. Making sure to keep quiet, he looked through piles of malicious and sinister looking books. He had never been in the restricted section before, aside from the occasional dare or thrill ride in his younger years. But this time he was actually searching for a book, not excitement. Many of these books reminded him of the manor and his father's lovely little collection in a secret room underneath the Drawing Room floor. But now was not the time to become nostalgic, he only had under an hour…

It was now five minutes until the period was over and nothing. It was a fruitless search. He came across some pretty dark and interesting things, but nothing that could help him discover information on this Abyssus Erigo thing. Frustrated, he disillusioned himself and hastily walked to his next lesson…

"Oh for heaven's sake Ron!" Hermione exasperated in the Gryffindor common room, after looking up from her potions essay for the fifth time. It was almost eight o'clock and Ron who had been rocking nervously, whimpered in his seat. "Oh it's not that hard, honestly!" Ron didn't reply. He only faced her, looking terrified. Hermione gave him a sympathetic look. "Look, would it be easier if I did it for you?"

His head shot up. "What! No! Then she'll think I'm a coward and that I always need you to save me and… and…"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "You, a coward? Oh I didn't notice." She said sarcastically. "Look at you, you're quivering with fear! Come on Ron! You're supposed to be a Gryffindor." Hermione sighed and returned to her potions work.

"B-But what if she doesn't like me?" Ron asked in a squeaky voice. Hermione put down her quill and sighed exasperatedly.

"There's only one way to find out Ronald – Look here she comes!" Hermione hissed quietly. And indeed, there descending the steps like a petite butterfly, was Lavender Brown. The girl Ron will try helplessly to charm. Ron looked over his head slowly and gulped, turning an almost eerie tinge of green. "Go on Ron." Hermione encouraged. Ron nodded slowly and shakily stood. Looking like he had just swallowed the Polyjuice Potion he marched as confidently as he could to Lavender Brown, who smiled and batted her unnaturally long eyelashes as he approached. Silently wishing him luck, Hermione returned to her Potions Essay.

A mere thirty seconds later Ron returned, and judging by Lavender's disgusted shriek, Hermione figured it did not turn out as he had expected, or even hoped. He turned impossibly red in the face after disastrously failing his attempt to woo Lavender Brown. Hermione sighed helplessly and shook her head. "Honestly Ron how hard is it to say: excuse me Lavender but would you like to accompany me to Hogsmeade next weekend?" She exasperated.

"Oh sor-ree!" He snapped as he collapsed into a squishy chair. "Well sorry I'm-Miss-Perfect-Date-Doctor!" Hermione rolled her eyes and finished the last sentence of her three-foot long essay and packed up her things. Ron stood to return to the boys dorm, Hermione followed. "It's just that I can't talk and I get nervous around beautiful women." Said Ron as they both walked away. Hermione stopped on a step, looking slightly hurt.

"Beautiful women." She echoed with a hint of accusation.

"Yes, beautiful women like Lavender Brown, now she's a real looker." Said Ron off-headedly oblivious to Hermione's hint as he continued up the stairs. Hermione looked down looking quite upset and slowly trundled after him.

"So, so you're problem is, is that you can't talk around beautiful women." She said feeling even more insulted.

"Exactly." Said Ron, he finally caught a glimpse of her face and stopped. "Hermione what's wrong?"

_Oh so now he gets it…_

"Oh nothing…nothing, I'm just leaving – you know I'm seeing Malfoy soon for the um, decathlon thing. Oh look at the time I must be going. Bye." In an instant Hermione bolted down the stairs and out of the Gryffindor Common Room before he could witness the silent tear streaking her cheek. Staring after her, Ron merely shrugged.

"What crawled up your ass and died?" Draco drawled as Hermione vehemently stormed in and roughly dropped her book bag in the conveniently vacant chair beside her. She gave no reply, removed a book from her bag, sat down and slammed the heavy book on the table with a deafening sound. Luckily it was not filled with dust. "Something is wrong. Even a senseless man could tell." He said, looking up from his book on 'Giant Wars.'

"Ron. Is. Tactless." She spat out quite simply while opening her book.

"What? You figured that out now?" He asked smoothly, wearing that condescending smile, just as always. She ignored him and looked back down to what she was reading. A few minutes of silence passed, where the two were supposedly reading. Draco however, disregarded his immorally boring book and watched her intently, a small smile played on the corners of his lips. Finally he broke the silence.

"Granger?"

"What?" she snapped.

"Are you going to read that?" He asked, looking pointedly at the book before her.

"What? Of course I'm reading this." She said, finally looking up to him.

"Really?" He asked, with a glint his eye.

"Yes, really." She was beginning to sound annoyed.

"I'm impressed Granger, you've learned how to read upside down."

Slowly Hermione tilted her head downwards, her insides filling with dread. And indeed, the book was upside down. Her cheeks couldn't help but turn a tinge of pink. Forcefully she spun her heavy book the right way around.

"So what's this drivel about the Weasel?" He asked casually.

Knowing that the persistent bugger would not back down until he got what he wanted from her, she felt the extreme urge to tell him everything. She didn't care whom she was talking to; she just wanted to complain, to bitch, to let it all out. She knew it was cruel but she was tired of holding it all in, so she basically blurted out everything. The insulted bitch within her had been unleashed.

"Well the weasel – I mean Ronald, well he practically insulted me."

Draco lifted an interested eyebrow.

"Well not intentionally but – He said he got nervous around beautiful women and that he couldn't talk around them."

Draco almost snorted but disguised it as a stifled laugh.

"It's not funny!" She yelled. "It's not -" a tear threatened to fall.

"That impertinent rogue wouldn't know the difference between a goddess or a hag, or between an ass or a stallion!" He laughed. Apparently Hermione failed to see the merriment in the situation.

"No guy will ever…" Hermione trailed off and whispered soft words, which Draco couldn't quite catch. "Just for who I am… they won't do that for me." Her words were made even more inaudible by a small sob, but he heard enough to understand what she was mumbling about.

"Listen Granger, the reason why males won't result to any extremities for you is because you're a pain in the ass."

"He practically called me ugly." She muttered darkly as the tear that threatened to fall, finally fell. Draco winced he did not want to have a crying mudblood on his hands.

"Listen Granger," Draco braced himself and took a large breath. "This is one of the most difficult things I will ever have to do in life so don't dare make me repeat this but… you are… somewhat… decent, in terms of the…department of… pleasing… appearance…" He said with extreme difficulty, choosing his words very carefully. He mentally slapped himself for his lack of eloquence. _Real smooth Malfoy, real smooth. _

Immediately her silent tears ceased. She seemed to have lightened up considerably and her dark mood vanished. And – heaven help him – she was smiling again.

"But – your hair really is a mess -" He reasoned, She would not stop smiling! "Granger you can be intimidating. All those guys must have been scared of you. Gutless cowards, personally I don't see what they fear in you -"

"Really?" She asked in mild surprise. "Intimidating? Me?"

"Yes Granger." He replied tersely as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Now let us never speak of this again."

Despite his words she only seemed to smile wider, it sort of reminded him of a little girl's doll. Those things with blonde hair and blue eyes that never ceased smiling. Hermione's day had been made, he had granted her a compliment. "Malfoy?"

"What now?" He asked irritably.

"Thank you."

"Er…" He looked quite confused but he brushed it off. "Enough with this nonsense and let's get back to the task at hand. Your Gryffindor nobility is affecting my concentration. We shouldn't waste time over silly squabbles within your infamous threesome."

Even with his words, no sour mood of his could ruin hers, she picked up another book and started humming to herself. Beneath the passive features of his face, Draco was currently mentally kicking himself. _I'm such a bloody idiot! What the hell is wrong with me? I must be confounded… _

"Granger do you still have that book?" He asked, trying to change the subject.

"Which book?"

"The one you showed me the other night."

"Yes, but it's back in the Gryffindor Common room." She yawned.

He rolled his eyes. "Figures…"

"Why do you want it anyway?" She yawned again.

"It was interesting." Hermione's yawning, caused him to yawn. It was weird the way things happened like that. Quickly making a decision, he stood.

"Where are you going?" She asked. He looked down to her and stretched, gracefully (if that were possible).

"It's going to be a long night and I don't want to fall asleep. I'm getting coffee." He said casually. Her eyes widened in shock.

"B-But this is the Library!" She sputtered. "You can't bring food in here!" She looked around worriedly, making sure Madame Pince didn't happen to be walking around. "You can't bring coffee in the Library!" She hissed.

"…And? She's probably drooling over a stack of books anyway, besides, who will notice? Any spills and a little _Scourgify_ can clean it right up." He said quite convincingly. Man this guy had a way with executing his words. Looking reproachful and not entirely convinced she nodded.

"Fine, just make sure nobody sees you." She said quietly. She had broken the school rules at least fifty times before and a little coffee stain couldn't hurt. Compared to an illegal Polyjuice Potion in the girl's bathroom, this was a piece of cake. And so she waved goodbye as Draco left for the kitchens.

He returned ten minutes later with two steaming mugs of black coffee floating like steaming white clouds in front of him. She looked up from her notes and immediately she started to scold him.

"I told you to be discreet! You're levitating them right in front of you! What if Madame Pince saw you? What if Filch – what? – oh you got one for me too… um thanks…" He placed the mug in front of her and sat down taking a large gulp. The hot liquid travelled down his throat and immediately warmed him. Hesitantly, Hermione took her cup and brought it to her lips, she drank. "It's black." She pointed out.

"Yes it is." He replied.

"How did you know?"

"I can be quite perceptive Granger." He said, taking another sip. Hermione looked confused for a second.

"You watch me at breakfast?" She asked looking baffled. He stopped drinking and looked up to her.

"Once."

Still somewhat baffled, she shrugged and kept drinking. "Thanks." She said, the usual 'whatever' was his reply. Hermione was sort of relieved at this moment. Malfoy, after only one sitting had already memorised something Ron couldn't after six years of dining with her. It was funny actually and she didn't even know why she was so meticulous about her coffee preference. "What type do you like?" she asked.

"Black…" He said. "It's my colour." He added as an afterthought.

"I noticed." She said, nodding. The session was ending and the coffee (which miraculously refilled itself) was a great help. As they were leaving she spoke. "You know I don't know if this is any help but… if you really want that book and I don't know, if I'm still reading it or if someone else has it, you could try owling the book store."

Draco stopped dead in his tracks. _Of course! Owling! Why hadn't I thought of that before? I'm such an idiot! _"Oh my God, Granger Thank you, see you next time." He said hurriedly as he bolted out of sight towards the Slytherin Dungeons. Hermione stared blankly after him.

With a little smile and the fleeting feeling of butterflies in her stomach she said. "…You're welcome."

Quickly he ran down towards the dungeons. He was very eager for answers, he didn't know why he didn't consider owling before. No, he wasn't going to owl some bookstore which probably didn't have the book, he was going to owl the one person he knew that would know everything about this: his father. Normally he would be hesitant when concerning his father. His father was a man that did not like to be disturbed, but this was an extreme case when Draco was becoming desperate for answers and peace of mind.

Barging through the door to his dormitory, he hastily pulled out a quill and some parchment and wrote.

_Father, _

_The Abyssus Erigo ritual, explain. _

_If this inconveniences you, please forgive my blunt urgency. Your Son, _

_Draco Malfoy_

Rolling up the parchment, he ran all the way up to the owlery. Bursting through the door he found a random owl and attached the Parchment to it. "Take this to my father, Lucius Malfoy." He said quickly. The owl gave a hoot and flew out the window. Alas, some answers.

Hermione returned to the Gryffindor Common room to greet Harry and Ron. They were all bent up over their homework, again. Rolling her eyes she stepped in and greeted them all. "Hey Harry, Ron how was your night?"

"Busy" grunted Harry.

"Oh you know the usual, no social life, essays too long, incessant studying, buggering about Snape, upset about Lavender." Said Ron with an irritated sweetness in his tone. "How was your lovely night with the ferret-faced git?"

Hermione was about to answer that she had a fine time with the git when she suddenly realised… _she did not hate him anymore_. It was amazingly bizarre and perhaps even socially and morally wrong but it was the truth. And that's what truth was. "My night with Malfoy was fine." She yawned. Some of that coffee seemed to be wearing off.

"You know Hermione, the way you return from the Library in such a happy mood indicates that you two are _actually being_ _civil_." Said Harry in disbelief.

"Actually Harry, we are." She said as-a-matter-of-factly.

"I seriously do not believe you just said that." Said Ron scathingly. Hermione shot him a half-hearted glare and sighed.

"First Trelawney, now Hermione." Sighed Harry. Hermione looked up to him angrily, how _dare_ he compare _her_ to that fraud!

"What do you mean Harry?" She asked impatiently.

"Well Trelawney was being even more insane than usual lately – if that were even possible - she spent the entire lesson rambling on about some ritual, or something or other." Said Ron. Hermione rolled her eyes; it was just like the old bat to do something like that. Not wanting to argue at the moment she put her book bag down and snuggled up in one of the squishy chairs by the fire. Undoubtedly one of her most favourite spots in the world. It was the perfect time to either sleep, or brood. She unknowingly decided on the latter. In her silent train of thought, she decided to contemplate her strange revelation. She did not hate him. It was an awkward feeling, not harbouring that burning hate within her heart. But she didn't like him either, he was just one of those people that she knew. She did not either dislike him or like him. He was neutral.

He was normal.

It was almost only three weeks ago when she would have openly admitted that she hated him with a burning passion. Now he was a neutral being in her life. All this weird thinking of Malfoy reminded her of the book she was reading: _The Dark Arts, Clandestine Rituals and Prophecies_. Walking over to one of the study tables, she found it exactly where she had left it, underneath one of the table legs hoping that no one would find it. Grabbing the book, she returned to her seat. She crossed her legs and opened it to the page with the _Abyssus Erigo_ ritual. She read it again and again, wondering why Malfoy had taken such an interest in it.

…T_he memory may resurface unknowingly as either visions or dreams to the chosen sixth… To preform the ritual, it requires three vials of blood; two of those will be from the blood of one chosen from every sixth generation… _

She suddenly remembered. She didn't know why she hadn't taken notice before. Why she didn't ask him about it, or at least looked into it. Her memory was of when Malfoy collapsed! In their first meeting, he collapsed and when he woke he muttered something… Hermione read over the paragraph again. Tapping her finger on her lip, she couldn't quite remember. She read it again.

…_one chosen from every sixth generation… _

Those words… she knew it had something to do with those words. After a lot of thought, it came to her. "The heir, the chosen ones." She whispered. "That's what he said… But why?… Wait, don't tell me…he can't be…" Her words trailed off.

"Talkin' to yourself there, Hermione?" Asked Ron from his Transfiguration essay.

"Oh, no…no…" She said to him distractedly. Her friends worrying about her sanity were the least of her problems. She had her decathlon partner to think about. He couldn't actually be a part of that ritual, could he? Besides, there's a chance that this thing doesn't even exist. But when she thought about it, really, it all fit. He was having visions or dreams, he's of age – he's already seventeen and in the wizarding world, his age was enough, he comes from a really old pureblood family, and… She turned to Harry and Ron… And Trelawney was predicting a ritual. She may have been a fraud but there was a chance that Trelawney perhaps, on this very rare occasion, might be right.

Hermione rubbed her temples. This was too overwhelming. At this very moment, she chose to deny it until she asked Malfoy about it later. Hopefully he wouldn't snap at her or get angry. Things between them have been very good lately, considering their history. She snapped the book shut. She didn't want to think of Malfoy being one of the integral elements in raising hell. If he was, then she hoped to god he was unwilling to actually go through with it. Well, she decided, if there was one thing that could distract her mind, it was helping her friends with their homework.

"Hey Harry, Ron, need any help?" She asked as she got up and walked over to them looking cheery.

"I thought you'd never ask!" Ron exasperated.

"You're a life-saver Hermione." Harry smiled warmly.

"Anytime, you two, anytime." She smiled warmly. Though these two were hopeless, she always loved helping them distraction or no distraction.

Draco walked easily through the school, knowing that he would receive some relief in his father's reply. Although as much relief it would bring him, he could not help but dread if it were true. As he reached the Slytherin dungeons, it came as no surprise to him that no one was in the common room. Anxiously he paced in front of the fire. He knew he had just sent the owl, but he hoped that his father would reply very soon. He could have been there for hours pacing and still no reply. Resigning to the fact that he would not receive a reply any time soon, he withdrew to bed.

Opening the door to his dormitory, he was met with the deeply unpleasant and horrific – the word 'sounds' wouldn't even come close to it -sounds of Crabbe and Goyle's monstrous snoring. Only in the moonlight would one witness Draco's deepening scowl as he stepped back in disgust. "Oh god." He sighed as he reluctantly stepped into the room, his scowl deepened, as he had no choice but to close the door behind him. _There's no sleeping tonight. _

Indeed, when Draco woke that morning, he barely received sleep. Preforming a quick spell to make sure no one could see the bags under his eyes, he took to the showers and tried to drown out any sound the thunderous duo made.

An hour later, when he stepped into the Hall alone (Blaise was no where to be found), he felt a small hand grab his robe and snatch him away.

"What? Unhand me – oh – you." He said with a sense of familiarity as he realised it was Hermione who dragged him into a deserted corridor. She was developing a knack to drag him away to secretive places. She looked determined yet almost regretful. In utter seriousness, she spoke.

"I need to speak with you."

Another chapter gone, so, How about a review as a Christmas prezzie? Cheers – Deeh


	6. Nose in a Book

**Disclaimer: **I don't think I put these…but anyway I am a mere fanfiction writer and I do not hold the glory of owning such characters, Jk does.

A/N: Wow it's been a while since I've updated. Well with Christmas and New Year stuff going on I was too busy to write. Oh, and my brother is on the computer 24/7 playing Ragnarok online. So yeah I can't write either, thanks for waiting though. Sorry for the long wait. Oh and just a note, part of this chapter was inspired when I watched Pearl Harbour the other day, see if you can guess which part! And as always, thanks for the reviews, review again if you will. Enjoy!… hopefully.

**Chapter 6 – Nose in a Book**

"_I need to speak with you." _

"What is it Granger?" He asked looking slightly annoyed at her timing but casual all the same. She hesitated before answering. "Granger I know I'm irresistible but please, contain yourself."

It was at that when Hermione was forced to answer him. "Malfoy you know it's not about _that_ so stop it. I need to speak with you about, about that book and I think you know what I'm talking about."

The look of smugness that inhabited his features vanished and was replaced by a look of surprise. _Is it possible that she could know? _"Fine, go on. But I must protest, you have chosen a dreadfully inconvenient time it's just before breakfast."

"I'm aware of that, so can we please choose a time?" She exasperated, looking at him semi-imploringly. This ritual thing was really starting to freak her out and she wanted answers as soon as possible. She didn't even know why she was concerning herself within these matters all she knew was that she had a thirst for knowledge and her conscience would not be at ease if there was a possibility that her suspicions may be true.

"Can't this wait until tomorrow night when we have to meet anyway?" He asked, his eyes darting around cautiously just in case any other of his fellow students decided to enjoy breakfast early. Hermione also shared within his precautions thus prompting her to answer quickly.

"Well…why not tonight?" She asked. It's not as if she _wanted _to see more of him, that was not the case, although it did seem like it.

"Quidditch Practice, our match against your house is coming up and _I will _triumph over the four-eyed freak."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Not a chance Malfoy, Harry would grab that snitch before you any day."

"Is that a challenge Granger?" He asked, smiling mischievously.

"Would it matter if it was? It wouldn't be a fair deal because it's guaranteed that Gryffindor will win." She smirked.

He covered a laugh. "I agree with you it wouldn't be a fair deal because - correction – _Slytherin_ _will _win."

"Whatever Malfoy. I just wanted to ask, does _it _really exist?" She asked reinstating her level of seriousness. With an enigmatic knowledge of what she was referring to, he replied.

"I'll know for sure soon." And before she could even reply, he darted away and out of sight. When she poked her head around the corner from which he sped off to she saw him running up to someone.

"Hey Blaise." Said Draco as he quickly ran up to his companion, before he could see whom he was previously conferring with. Hermione ducked back around the corner before Blaise could see her. _No wonder why... _She bit her lip. So Malfoy didn't know for sure if the ritual existed or not. He also said he'd find out soon… What did that mean? That he actually owled a store, or something else? Spotting a familiar mop of black hair she walked out of the corridor to catch up with her friends.

As she sat down she saw the jug of steaming black coffee. Smiling to herself she poured herself a cup in memory of the previous night. Harry sat down next to her. She turned to him.

"Hey Harry, the next Quidditch match is coming up, right?" She asked as she forked a few scrambled eggs on to her plate.

"Yeah, why do you ask?"

"Just promise me to grab that snitch first." She said with a flare for competition. He smiled.

"Of course."

Sighing she began to eat. _I guess I must confront him tomorrow then…_

Hermione leaned back in her chair and sighed. She had been finishing her homework here in Library for hours now. For a reason unknown to her, she decided to seat herself in the seat she usually sat when she was with Draco. She had the feeling of claiming ownership if this particular spot due it's air of familiarity and homeliness. She did feel at home when sitting in this certain spot and she didn't know why, she also felt the same feeling when in the Gryffindor common room. Only here it was different, a hundred others did not share this isolated home, it was hers to claim and to own for no one dared to step foot there. The only other soul who took temporary residence here was the boy she was now watching through the window as he determinedly practiced to win his challenge.

Yes, she was now watching Draco Malfoy whilst pausing in her studying. He was only a green blur through the clear glass, but his handsome white-blonde hair was unmistakeable against the dark skies. It was unique to him. It was only he in the entire school that sported such shimmering locks. Now its shimmering beauty was enhanced even more so in the ever preternaturally soft moonlight.

The six other green blurs had now slowed to a halt in the air and all seven figures descended towards the marsh grounds of the pitch, he included. Snapping her eyes away, she returned to her arduous work oblivious of the amount of time that had elapsed during her little escapade when she stared gazing out towards the grounds.

When Draco returned from training clad in his Quidditch robes, he stepped tiredly into his dorm to find his father's owl sitting idly on his bed gazing up at him with beady yellow eyes.

"Obsidian!" Draco cried out, jumping at the bird, almost startling the creature. "Finally…" he breathed in a sigh of relief. All traces of his tiredness and exhaustion were gone, now replaced with anxiety and excitement. His hands shook nervously as he untied the black ribbon that attached the letter to the leg of Obsidian. Obsidian, the regal owl gave a hoot, nodded and flew off once it was clear that he would be sending no reply. Gulping, Draco slid the parchment out of the envelope. Opening it, his heart fell. Only two words were written in his father's neat scrawl, two very puzzling words.

_Your Destiny _

"My what?" he blurted, _"What the bloody hell is this rubbish!" _Draco yelled in fury. He snatched up the envelope and practically tore it apart in desperation. He found nothing else inside. What angered him was that instead of his father's reply granting him security and closure, it only presented more questions. And these new myriads of questions were regrettably more confusing and fearful. At least he knew one thing for sure: it existed.

"Well I already knew _that!_" He yelled angrily in the quiet of his empty dorm. "Yes it exists, but what the hell do you mean father? 'My Destiny,' what do you mean?" He paced around his dorm fuming silently, but breathing heavily to control his anger. He needed to think. What did this all mean?

But Draco had received his answer just mere moments later.

He fainted.

He woke, gasping, everything was clearer now. The father and the boy in his dreams, the two vials – the figures he had witnessed were no longer just blurred figures, they had taken pristine clear shape. Draco had recognised the people in his dreams immediately, for he saw his father but more importantly – he saw himself. Only it wasn't the self he knew, it was he surely but he was more than a decade younger. He had witnessed a six-year-old version of himself.

… _It is said that the details of this ritual is taught to those who are of the sixth generation at a very young age, to be imprinted in the mind, to lay forgotten in the recesses of the subconscious until they are of age to preform this ritual where the memory may resurface unknowingly as either visions or dreams to the chosen sixth…_

It took a second for him to finally understand, to finally be clear and appreciate the gravity of his rather unfortunate predicament. _It was him_, he was the key, or one of the keys at least, but they probably had retrieved a blood of some ancestor of his from six hundred years ago. He slumped on his bed, and for the first time in living memory, he was completely dumbstruck, if not, he was horrified. But most of all, he was scared. It could have been many long years before Draco spoke again, it could have been seconds, minutes or days but when he had finally recovered slightly from his shocked silence he asked a very important question.

"Why me?"

He stood silently from his bed and started to pace his dormitory again, his eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. Millions of questions raced around his mind, each causing him to grow angrier and angrier by the minute. "Why me?" he whispered to himself. "Why hadn't they informed me? I should have had a say in this…they should of told me, do I have a choice? Why did they choose me? Who else knows about this?" He continued to pace, his steps growing considerably faster. But who would want to preform such an abhorrent ritual? Only one name had surfaced in his mind and one name alone: The Dark Lord. He wouldn't dare say the Dark Lord's name but there was no doubt that it was _he _that wanted to literally raise hell. He didn't give a second thought about it and if his suspicions were true then he didn't have a choice. If Draco refused to partake in this then there would be no doubt that The Dark Lord would certainly murder him. But he didn't want to do it, he was too proud a person to be used in such a way. They may say it would be glorious or an honour to be involved such an act, but Draco thought it was ridiculous and would only result in, well if worse came to worse, then perhaps another Armageddon would likely arise. He had no wish in dying, he had no wish of his family dying either, but he soon realised he would die either way. He ran a shaky hand through his hair as he realised he was imprisoned in a lose-lose situation.

"I die either way…" He whispered in mingled shock and fear. "Is the Dark Lord really that desperate?"

He was rudely interrupted when Crabbe and Goyle loudly stepped in and told him that dinner was starting. "Be right down," He muttered dismissively as he stared into nothingness completely at loss for words and unaware of what to do. The bumbling duo left an oblivious Draco to be alone again and worry about his not too distant future. It was only when Pansy poked her head through the dormitory door when he finally snapped from his reverie.

"You are coming to dinner aren't you, Draco?" looking slightly concerned. Draco was surprised with her sudden behaviour, she had never been concerned about his welfare before. She had only been concerned with his looks and his wealth, even though she outwardly protested that she did like him, Draco was no fool.

"Why are you so concerned?" He asked.

"I was looking for you before and I saw your father's owl…"

"Oh…that." He said looking away. "That was just my father informing me that I need an escort for my family's annual Christmas Ball." He lied quickly.

"But Christmas is at least a month away." Said Pansy, but Draco could tell she was looking hopeful. He usually did ask her to accompany him to his family's ball since she was one of the decent looking Slytherins and her family was invited regardless. His relationship with her was purely platonic although he only hoped Pansy saw it that way as well.

"Preparations begin early." He said shortly. "Yeah I'm coming down to dinner." He stood from his bed, pocketed his father's letter and pushed ritual out of his mind telling himself he'd worry about it later.

As hungry as he was from Quidditch practice, Draco did not eat. He simply sat there playing with his stew pushing it around the plate with his spoon. Not only was it a NEWT year, but he had Quidditch to think about, the decathlon as well and now he had this mother load of things to concern himself with because of his destiny with this Abyssus Erigo thing. He was too lost in his won confused thoughts to notice anything else, not even when Dumbledore announced that the upcoming Quidditch match had been moved up a week due to Madame Hooch's departure for a holiday. He only noticed when Pansy had stomped hard on his foot to make him realise. This meant that the match was now in the coming week and not the week after the next. Draco swore at this, _great, just great. _

Hermione's eyes wandered curiously over to the Slytherin table where she knew a blonde would be seated. She had suspected that he would know by now whether that ritual did exist although he did look quite disturbed and perhaps even morose, she could only conclude that whatever he found out, it was not very good. Dumbledore was just in the middle of informing the congregation that Quidditch was moved up by a week when Malfoy looked angrily at Pansy who seemed to have disturbed him in his train of thought. He then slumped back in his chair looking agitated and rather annoyed at their Headmaster's news. Hermione glanced over to Harry who didn't seem bothered by the news at all, in fact he seemed to welcome it with open arms. She smirked.

"Seems like Malfoy isn't looking too happy with the upcoming match." She commented with a smile. Harry and Ron, who had just surfaced from his food, looked up to their enemy and smiled.

"Doesn't look too happy does he?" Asked Ron. "Probably knows they're going to lose…again!" He said delightedly, looking hopeful. Harry, who was captain this year, smiled and made a mental note not to receive any detentions in the next week. It was his last year and he definitely wanted Gryffindor to receive the cup.

For Hermione, the next night drew close with anticipation. Wringing her wrists nervously she checked the clock to find it was still seven-thirty. She wondered weather half an hour was still too early. Shaking her head she picked up her bag, of course not!

It seemed, as she arrived in the Library ten minutes later, that Malfoy had not even arrived yet. Plonking herself in her usual seat she picked rummaged through her bag, picked up her book on Herbology: _Two thousand five hundred and fifty-six magic and non-magic herbs, a complete Encyclopaedia._ After a few minutes of silent reading and memorising a loud disturbance caused her attention to stray from her work. Loud deliberate footsteps echoed through the soundless Library and a vehement hiss of whispers trailed along with it. She wasn't surprised to see a frustrated and angry looking Malfoy stride in (for Malfoys did not stomp) and belligerently seat himself. Eyeing him curiously, she raised an eyebrow.

"Wake the dead, you did." She remarked at his disruptive entrance.

"Whatever," he replied gruffly, slammed a book on the table and began to read. The first ten minutes passed with silence, aside from Malfoy's frequent mutterings. They were mainly underneath his breath and to himself but Hermione could have sworn she heard, 'destiny… what the hell….going on about… no help' and the frequently asked question, 'why me.' At first she concluded that it was about Quidditch and it had something to do with the rather controversial match due in the next week, but when he muttered 'destiny' it completely threw her off. She glanced over to the corner where Madame Pince kept the new books reserved for them and took a green one, green for Herbology for they had arrived at covering the topic. Another five minutes passed and Draco, finally losing patience slammed his book shut, huffed and folded his arms.

"What…?" She asked.

"Nothing."

Rolling her eyes she looked back down. "Any answers?" she asked. "About - "

"I know what you're talking about!" He snapped. Her question only seemed to elevate his anger. She shot him a glare. This boy could be really rude when he was irritable.

"Well?" She asked with mingled anticipation and apprehension. He gave her a dark look.

"That is none of your business Granger." He answered curtly. The nerve of him! Hermione bet that he hadn't even told any of his friends about this little ritual. If it existed, that is. It was more her business than anyone else's. She raised an eyebrow.

"Well then, would it also be none of my business that I happened to bring with me a certain book that - "

His head snapped to her smirking face.

"Hand it over Granger." Said Draco, determined not to sound too eager as he held out a hand.

"Not until you reveal -"

"Hand it over Granger!" He spoke more forcefully as if commanding her to obey him. She was about to snap back when he suddenly collapsed. It was so quick and sudden that Hermione yelped in fright. His body just fell forward and landed with a heavy thump onto the table, much like a limp rag doll. Hermione stood and cautiously crept forward, tucking her hair behind her ears as she did so and shook him gently.

"Malfoy… Malfoy… oh not again." She said worriedly. But there was no need to because in the next instant he sat up quickly and woke. Clutching her chest, Hermione jumped back, startled. "_Don't, do that!"_

"What…?"he breathed looking slightly dazed. Returning to her seat Hermione looked absolute.

"It's my business now Malfoy." She said with a hint of triumph. Realising she was right, he frowned and looked away. Personally, he wasn't too comfortable with her prying around in his affairs, even if she did just want to help. He had always been too convinced that he didn't need any. But now, she had witnessed him collapsed into vision twice and considering this, she had more business within this matter a whole lot more than his closest friends.

"Abyssus Erigo…" mused Hermione softly, "I wonder what it means…"

"Hell raise." He answered before he could stop himself. "I know a tad of Latin." He added quickly at her look of inquisition.

"Thought so, so did you owl anyone?" She asked, it looked as if she was wasting no time. "Does it actually, you know, exist?" Draco hesitated and avoided her gaze for a moment trying to decide whether he could trust her or not. Finally resigning to the fact that the girl sitting across from him wouldn't withdraw from the situation unless he used a memory charm, and she already knew too much, he sighed. Rolling his eyes, he reluctantly reached into one of his deep pockets and retrieved a piece of parchment.

"I owled my father." He said darkly as he handed it to her.

"Your father?" she asked, taking the parchment from him, she then pursed her lips figuring out quickly that he had chosen the most efficient option. If there would be anyone who knew about this, it would be Lucius Malfoy.

Slowly she opened it and read the two horrifying words written on it. "But- how- I mean – Your…?"

"My destiny, yes." He finished for her with a very dark expression. "This just presents more inquiries. And yes it is I. I'm one of the chosen and yes I'm a key element in the destruction of the world."

"But…" Hermione looked very troubled and stood. She started pacing the area. "This, this is huge, this is colossal, this is outrageous. Well I did consider it a possibility – I mean it all fits, I had just hoped that I was wrong but - "She suddenly stopped dead in her tracks and faced him. "But you can't actually be thinking of going through with it, do you?" She asked worriedly.

He gave her a look. "Yeah, sure I'd love to be a part of the next apocalypse which will eventually get us all killed, sure I'm absolutely ecstatic."

She relaxed a little. "Well, good."

"And you do know that if I refuse, The Dark Lord would not spare a thought in ending my life." He said, anger clearly evident in his tones.

"I -" She started, but she didn't know what to say. She gripped the roots of her hair and sat back down looking grim. "I don't want you to die Malfoy." She said quietly.

"And nor do I." He added.

"Well you could go to Dumbledore." She suggested, looking resigned.

In answer, he looked revolted. "I am not going to run to the old man for help, never. He's senile."

Hermione looked insulted. "Shut up. He may not be young, but he's wiser and more powerful than you and I put together! And he is not senile! He can help you."

Draco scoffed. "You've offended my honour by suggesting such a thing."

"Malfoy, just listen - "

"No, you listen Granger, I'm not your four-eyed boyfriend – I don't go running to the Headmaster with every little problem I have! Come to think of it, you had better not run to him either!"

"But Malfoy, this isn't _just a little problem_!" Hermione said, raising her voice.

"This is none of you business Granger so but out!"

"Yes it is!"

"Just shut up!"

Hermione huffed haughtily, picked up a book and looked away. The 'conversation' had officially ended. "You need to do something Malfoy." Hermione whispered.

"I know." He replied quietly. She didn't mean for him to hear, but she was glad he did anyway. It was a few minutes before anything eventful happened. Draco was too angry and too distracted to concentrate on anything now that he was thinking about the stupid ritual. He snapped another book shut and looked over to the pile of new books in the corner. "Accio -" he was too pissed off to think about the name of a book so he simply yelled, " – books!" and waved his wand around angrily.

A grave mistake

Fortunately, Hermione had realised this at once. "No!" she leaped to her feet. Every single book in the Library came soaring towards him at alarming speed. Malfoy started to scream. Whipping out her wand, she yelled, "Finite Incantatem!"

She really did hope she was fast enough. The book soared back to their respective places. Unfortunately she was not quick enough to save his nose. He lay on the floor clutching his nose, his eyes teary and his face very red.

"Oh Malfoy…" she whispered. Stowing her wand away, she rushed to his side trying to stifle her laughter.

"I don' know wha' you fink ish so amusin' abou' my nose Granger!" He spat as he got up on all fours.

"I'm sorry, but you did bring this upon yourself you know." She chuckled. Still clutching his nose, he swaggered to a standing position trying to maintain his dignity. "Are you alright?" she asked.

"What the hell do you think?" He snapped as he heavily seated himself and bit his lip to ease the pain. His eyes were really teary and his nose was really red. "L-Let's g-get on with this Granger." He stuttered with difficulty. His nose really was in pain and that book was flying towards him pretty fast. Thankfully after a few minutes the pain subsided a little and things had returned to the usual silent manner.

"So have you got any information yet?" She asked, drawing their attention back to the ritual.

"Can you hand me the book then?" He asked, his father was absolutely no help, owling him only worsened the situation.

"Oh yes, here." Feeling rather enthusiastic and giddy, she threw the book at him even if he was just sitting across the table from her.

Another grave mistake

Draco was not prepared and with his reflexes slightly impaired due to pain, Hermione's airborne textbook flew straight into his already bruised nose and knocked him right off his chair. He landed in a rather undignified heap. Hermione gasped as her hand flew to her mouth. This time he really did look as if he reached the point of crying. His face was now a similar shade of Ron's hair. His breathing was heavy and his hands shook violently as he blindly grasped around for the fallen book. She could only stand and watch him for a moment in mild amusement.

"The-the book just got away from me" He rasped painfully. He couldn't stand it anymore, finally he groaned and clutched his nose. "This really hurts." He admitted, beginning to sound like and injured child. Tears, whether he willed it or not, started to leak from his eyes. "My nose!" He howled, "My perfectly chiselled nose!" He was crouched into a sort of ball on the floor rolling about and howling, evidently all trace of his dignity was forgotten. All he could think about was the pain. "My perfectly chiselled nose! It's broken!" He tried to fight the hot tears from forming in his eyes. "It's broken! My perfect nose is broken!"

"Oh Merlin, I'm sorry." Said Hermione running to his side. She did feel rather guilty for the incident but nevertheless he was her enemy after all, and she couldn't help but feel a little amusement. If Harry and Ron were here, she mused, they'd be roaring with laughter. Frantically, she sat on the floor beside his hunched figure and gently holding his shoulders, she guided his head onto her lap so she could inspect the damage. "Oh no it's bleeding… here let me help." She took his shaking hands from his nose her guilt increasing at the damage she had caused. "Let me see…"

"It hurts, oh it hurts, my nose – I can't breathe, I can't breathe!"

"Lay still Malfoy, lay still." She said consolingly until he eventually calmed down. Waving her wand, she conjured some ice and softly dabbed it on his nose.

"It's cold!" He gasped.

"It'll help numb the pain and stop the bleeding." She told him.

They laid in silence for the following minutes while she nursed his broken nose, all the while he gazed blankly into her eyes. Why did they seem so bright? They looked so carefree and yet were careworn. For me, he thought awkwardly. He was unkind to her and yet here she sat, helping him. The only question he could ask was: why? It seemed like he was asking that question a lot these days. He had never considered her as a buxom or attractive girl. To him, she wasn't worth his roving eye. But lately… he may have to reconsider. She was growing on him, he just wasn't fully aware of it yet. And her intelligence was quite alluring too…

He snapped out of his gaze and focused his eyes elsewhere and pretended to look interested in the cobwebs above the windows. His eyes only returned to her when she took the ice off his nose.

"Sorry," she apologized quietly, "but I did break your nose."

The expression on his face was nothing short of horrified. His hands flew to his face. "It will be okay, won't it?" His voice rose in panic. Traces of fear danced in his eyes. "There must be some sort of charm to fix it, I don't want to be looking like Dumbledore for the rest of my days."

"Yes there is, but I've never preformed it before. Would you like to go to Madame Pomfrey, or shall I do the honours of restoring your nose to its original 'perfection'?" She asked, looking down on him. _He did look cute when he was scared… _

"What – and walk around the school looking like a demented freak? My perfect looks -" she rolled her eyes "- are ruined, I'd rather stay here thanks."

"Okay," she said bracingly. Hermione drew her wand, pointed to his nose and muttered, "_Episkey_." A hot surge followed by an icy tingle rushed through his nose as he sat up. Quickly he stood and hastily took a few steps back when realising where his head had previously had been. _In her lap - _ that was how distraught he was. Hermione looked away to hide the furious blush rising in her cheeks. "Er, uh it should be fixed," she muttered quickly. She herself could not believe she had encouraged them to be in such a position. _I was fixing his nose_, she repeated to herself, _I was fixing his nose and that's all it was_. Standing, she returned to her seat and propped up a large book to hide her tomato-like complexion. It was a few moments before she was able to gather enough courage and take a glance at him. To her relief, he was already engrossed in _The Dark Arts, Clandestine Rituals and Prophecies, _or at least he seemed like it.

"Oh, I forgot." Said Hermione, she withdrew her wand and pointed it at him, "_Tergeo!_"

"What did you do?"

"I just saved you from looking like you were involved in a gang fight." She said smartly.

"Right" he muttered, flicking through a page. "I feel the need to establish another ground rule." He informed her as he scanned a paragraph.

"And what might that be?"

"Propelling through the air common objects, especially books, is strictly prohibited. I don't fancy being knocked out again by a potentially dangerous projectile."

She laughed. "Oh alright then, but if you dislike airborne objects so much – enough to establish a ground rule – Why do you play Quidditch?"

"Quidditch is Quidditch." He answered. "Quidditch is a sport and players enter that pitch with full knowledge of any risks that may occur whilst in play. Players know fully well that there is a chance that they will be injured, they do not however," he shot her a deadly glance, "They do not enter a Library knowing fully well that the Head Girl will chuck a book in their face."

"Well _normal _people Malfoy don't walk into a Library and summon every single book into their face." She retorted. "You're fortunate that I realised -"

"Save me from your heroic monologue Granger," He snapped, "Any idiot with half a brain could have figured it out, I was startled that's all."

"And I don't suppose you're an idiot with half a brain?"

"Of course not! I'm a picture of mental health."

"Strange, I have the largest urge to laugh"

"Shut up." He said furtively.

"Running out of quips Malfoy?" She asked.

"No. Just running out of patience with you."

"You know, you still haven't said thank you." She said expectantly. He gave her a withering look as if it were a ridiculous notion for her to expect such a thing from him.

"So Hermione, how was the git tonight?" asked Harry as Hermione sank into a chair in the Gryffindor Common room an hour later. She smiled.

"Well…" she said looking almost ready to laugh, "I broke his nose…"


	7. Affections

Disclaimer: Yep, you guessed right. I don't own it.

A/N: Well another chapter gone and another one to write. You may call this chapter remotely uneventful seeing as it is focused more on their feelings toward each other and the development of their relationship. DHr fluffiness yay! Enjoy! Hopefully. Oh and big thanks for the reviews! They made my day, no my week. So keep them coming!

**Chapter 7– Affections **

It was the morning of the match that had officially opened the Quidditch season, and as always, it was Slytherin Versus Gryffindor. Draco woke with a start that morning – Goyle had produced a remarkably loud snore causing Draco to suddenly wake thinking there was a wild beast in the room. After all, he couldn't sleep very well anyway, (surprisingly the snoring had nothing to do with it) all the excitement and anticipation kept him awake all night. Stepping into the showers, he ran a hand through his platinum hair. _I will not let Potter grab the snitch, it's my last chance, and he won't win this time. _

On the other side of the school high up in the Gryffindor tower, Hermione was getting dressed with a rather savage battle raging in her mind. Who would she cheer for? The obvious choice of course would be Gryffindor… but Draco deserved a win too, especially over Harry… It was a few moments and a string of pointless arguments until – "Oh whatever!" she exasperated and exited her dorm down to breakfast.

It was usually oddly coincidental the way they both walked into the Great Hall at the same time. They were one of the first students down there as well, unless you counted some _other _students – most whom of which were locked at the lips trying to catch a little 'together' time before the Professors had arrived. However, for Hermione it was a time to enjoy a book in peace and for Draco it was time either to brood or catch up on much needed sleep. Hermione sipped her steaming coffee and reread for the umpteenth time her Ancient Runes essay due the following Monday. After having read it at least twice more her eyes trailed to a certain Slytherin who gulped his coffee fervently. Unbeknownst to her, her lips had already curved into a smile. That had been happening quite a lot recently. She watched him then place his mug on the table and transfigure it into a miniature version of a firebolt, he then charmed it to zoom around the hall and his miniature version had imitated the movements of the life-sized artefact perfectly. She couldn't help but admire his spellwork, if only such evidence could be witnessed in the classroom.

Finally, whether it was on purpose or not, his miniature firebolt had bumped a Ravenclaw boy hard on the back of the head disturbing the kissing Ravenclaw couple. They surfaced looking very annoyed. All the while Hermione watched and giggled.

"They needed to come up for air anyway." She laughed. Draco, who had felt her gaze finally looked up at her and grinned. "Good luck." She mouthed, and in receiving the message, he smirked back. She feel her cheeks suddenly flush and she tore her gaze away as the delicious breakfast finally appeared before them. Harry and Ron appeared minutes later smiling brightly.

"Ready for the match?" She asked them.

"As ready as I'll ever be." Answered Ron happily as he took his place beside her.

"As always." Said Harry flashing his widest grin and sat next to Ron.

"Good skies today." announced Ron. "Perfect weather for the perfect match."

"Perfect for whom I wonder?" asked Hermione, slicing up her pancakes. "You never know, you might be a little _too_ confident." Ron looked at her as if she were saying that blast-ended-skrewts were cute and cuddly.

"What do you mean 'a little _too _confident?'" asked Ron. "Of course Gryffindor's going to win, Malfoy's never won against us."

"But you never know, Malfoy's been training a lot harder lately, I've seen him." Said Hermione, trying to give her study companion the credit he deserved. She was right, every night when they weren't in session he was out there, whether with his team or not, training. Sometimes he would even arrive at eight o'clock still wearing his Quidditch robes, fresh from training. Such determination should be admired and rewarded, thought Hermione. Malfoy deserved a win over Harry and even with Harry as her best friend Malfoy deserved it.

"Yeah but Harry's got pure talent." Said Ron slapping Harry on the back genially. Hermione was about to snap at Ron saying that Malfoy did too have talent but instead shut her mouth thinking otherwise.

"But Malfoy does have talent." She mumbled under her breath, making sure they didn't hear. She didn't have any intention of arousing any manner of suspicion between the boys, it would seem as if she _liked _Malfoy or something. "_I don't._" she muttered even more quietly, trying to convince herself of it, but she knew she was beginning to grow very fond of the blonde boy. But Malfoy did have talent or else he wouldn't have stayed on the team for so long, besides, she had seen him fly. He flew smoothly and in control, Harry's style was more reckless and daring that's probably why he always caught the snitch, because he dared to.

She chanced another longing glance at the Slytherin, but was interrupted when a loud distraction came in the form of Luna Lovegood. "Oh, hello Luna." She greeted warmly.

"Hello there Hermione, Ron, Harry. Just come to wish you luck for the upcoming match." She said dazedly, her corkscrew necklace dangling about her robes.

"Hey Luna."

"Thanks Luna."

Luna smiled and tapped her roaring lion hat with her wand so that it once again resounded through the large hall. "Well must be off, my father said he'd owl me today. He told me he caught sight of a few crumple-horned snorkacks! Isn't it exciting?"

"Uh…sure." Said Harry reluctantly. "See you Luna." And with that the girl odd girl swept off and out of the scene.

"Ha, mental that one, but still, fun to be around." Said Ron, shovelling his breakfast in his mouth using his spoon.

"She's not mental Ron…just because she's a little _different…_" Said Hermione sternly, "Don't let Ginny hear you talking about Luna like that." In ten minutes Harry and Ron had to head off to the change rooms. Evidently, to her reluctant disappointment and dismay, this meant a certain Slytherin was leaving his table as well. She was left at the Gryffindor table alone, she sighed and absent-mindedly began to stir her already cold coffee. Not a moment later, a familiar face bounded to her. "Morning Ginny, why aren't you playing this morning?"

"I would love to be out there on the pitch, but I was struck with a really bad case of the flu." She sniffled, her nose looking almost the shade of her vivid hair. "Real bad luck, eh? Harry's not too happy about it but in any case, mind coming down to the pitch with me?"

"Sure, I was about to head down anyway." A distinct and startling roar caused Hermione jump. "Hello again Luna."

"Luna!" cried Ginny, through a load of tissues, "Want to come down with us as well?"

It was not five minutes later when the three of them (along with the majority of the school) were traipsing across the school grounds and across To the Quidditch Pitch. It was a long time before they were actually seated in the stands where they chose seats right on the edge and closest to the action. However, by this time, the game was minutes from starting.

"Who do you think will win?" wagered Hermione as the fourteen players stepped on this pitch (she kept an extra close watch especially over a certain blonde one.)

"Gryffindor naturally." Said Ginny seconds before she sneezed, "but I hear from Dean that Slytherin's been training really hard this year, so the outcome could be anything."

She turned to Luna. "What about you Luna?" asked Hermione.

"… Those clouds are really funny shapes…" said the dreamy girl, "…oh look it's starting." Immediately Hermione shifted her gaze towards the ground, the captains shook hands. She grew tense. In a matter of seconds all players were in the air. Harry and Draco flying the highest as to search for the snitch better.

Often there were times when either Harry or Draco caught sight the snitch and started zooming towards it (Hermione was ashen white whenever this happened) but in an instant the gold fluttering ball disappeared again. She along with others had recognised that Malfoy had noticeably improved. She was paying no attention to the score, honestly she didn't care she was too preoccupied closely watching the two seekers battle it out.

Twenty minutes into the game and Hermione's heartbeat was erratic. Harry and Draco were both diving at immeasurable speed. On the other side of the pitch one of the Slytherin beaters had powerfully knocked a bludger towards the ground. The deadly bludger was speeding towards both Draco and Harry. Harry who sensed this and with the advantage of a much faster broom, sped forward and avoided the deadly bludger. Unfortunately, the glittering golden ball the two had been chasing had vanished.

Hermione gripped the railing tightly, the bludger was coming and Draco wasn't moving. Why wasn't he moving? He and that bludger were set to a collision course!

Draco knew the bludger was coming, he flew back upwards to avoid it – it only followed. With the deadly black ball closing in, he had only one choice left…

Hermione gripped the railing even tighter, so tight in fact that her knuckles were growing white. She was on the edge of her seat. The bludger was growing closer and closer...

With the ball only inches away from giving him extensive brain damage, Draco hastily hoisted one leg over his broom and allowed himself to fall. The bludger flew on and merely grazed his right ear. With one hand, he now hung from his broom hundreds of feet in the air.

… The bludger was about to hit him. Hermione leapt from her seat. "NOOO!" she yelled, in fear for his life. But instead of the bludger colliding with him, he narrowly missed it by sliding off his broom. Once the bludger had zoomed off he hoisted himself back up. Hermione, shaking from tension, collapsed back into her chair and emitted a huge sigh of relief.

"What's the matter with you Hermione?" asked Ginny sceptically. "You were really getting nervous back there. Come on he's just Malfoy."

But he wasn't 'just Malfoy' he wasn't _just _the stuck up annoying Malfoy, well – he was the stuck up annoying Malfoy who grew on her and he was the Malfoy she grew fond of. She didn't know why but she knew she wouldn't be able to bear it if he ever got severely hurt.

"That Draco Malfoy has been quite… subdued this year." Commented Luna. "He's still not very kind though."

"Well even if he's not as big a prat as he used to be. Once a prat, always a prat." Said Ginny promptly. Hermione held a guilty silence and was determined not to take part in any of the conversation. "Look! Harry found the snitch!" cried Ginny. Luna tapped her hat once more so the lion atop it roared encouragingly. Hermione's hands found the railing and gripped it harder than before, growing as tense as ever.

Draco was right on Harry's tail. This is it, he thought, it's now or never. He sped up to be level with Harry. Harry's hand was already outstretched to grab the glittering ball. Draco's was also, desperately he groped, determined not to let his adversary win.

_I won't let him win… I won't let him win…_

He new this was his last chance, his _only_ chance. Many times, Draco remembered, he had tried and failed. Year after year Potter won and year after year Slytherin was at a defeat. Potter had always snatched the snitch before him and Draco had nearly been thrown off the team because of it. If his father had not intervened and wrote an arduous letter to the school, Draco would not be here. He didn't know what exactly his father stated in that letter but it had done the trick and now he would not let that second chance go to waste. He didn't care if neither of them won but he would not let Harry Potter once again steal his long-awaited victory.

Draco sensed something from behind, it seems like that bludger had come for seconds. Aware of the danger, the two seekers ploughed on for that tiny snitch. The bludger head for Harry, he swerved and missed it. With Draco now in the lead he stayed right on the snitch's tail and extended his arm out further, just a little more… The bludger had come back for him. With only a second to spare, he grabbed it and he knew no more…

"Tied with Slytherin!" Harry grumbled miserably and sat back into one of the squishy chairs.

"I know mate." Said Ron, taking a place beside him. "I couldn't believe it either, blimey, I still can't believe it!"

Hermione remained silent with a smile of satisfaction. This was an outcome she could handle. She could only hope Draco would be content with the outcome as well. She really did hope he was all right she was very worried about him. Which reminded her… "Hey guys, I'll be in the Library for a bit." She stood and rushed down towards the hospital wing.

Upon reaching her intended destination, she cautiously stepped inside and looked about for any indication of student or teacher. When she discerned neither was present, she crept inside and searched for a certain bed. The darkness of night had already befallen upon them and she only had a few lit wall candles to aid her in her search. A glisten of silver was spotted only a few beds away. Immediately knowing it was him she rushed to his bedside and could only hope that he was all right.

She sat down on a small stool beside him. She had been so worried. Draco's head was now encircled with bandages. No one had received any word concerning his condition. A bludger to the head was a very serious injury. Hermione surveyed him carefully with the burdens of worry filling her mind. He was unconscious and that was the extent of her limited knowledge. The brightness of the candlelight illuminated his features perfectly only bringing her further to the brink of tears as she wrung her wrists nervously.

"Please be alright," she whispered, "Please be alright…" She reached for one of his hands and gripped it tightly. His hand was still warm meaning he was still alive. She choked on a dry sob. "Malfoy…" Several prolonged and uneventful moments passed. Although he was unconscious, but by some universal force his hand gently squeezed hers back. Her eyes widened and she stared at their joined hands in astonishment. "Malfoy?"

A pained groan came in reply. Slowly he opened his eyes and blinked. He sat up. She gasped in surprise, "Malfoy!" and hugged him with full force, allowing her tears to finally fall.

"Granger…?"

"You're all right! You're all right!" She cried into his shoulder.

"Granger? What are you…?" He asked weakly before being swamped with a mane of thick brown curls.

"Damn you! Damn you Malfoy! You had me so worried!"

He blinked, completely overcome with shock. "I… uh…" he mumbled as his hands lay awkwardly at his sides. Deciding to say no words, he slowly placed his arms around her crying figure as she sobbed into him. Her eyes flew open in shock. Draco had no real experience in consoling anyone, what was he to do? But finally he simply closed his eyes and realised this was enough and her crying had slowly disintegrated. They sat there for a moment in a strange yet comfortable embrace. He let his arms fall. "You can release me now, I'm quite fine." He told her.

Reluctantly, she let go. "I'm glad you're feeling well." She sighed, drying her tears.

"But why? Why did you come to see me?" He asked in mild amazement. No one had ever come to visit him before. Unless you count the occasion way back in third year when his arm had been injured by that Hippogriff. Pansy had come to deliver a box of 'Bertie Bott's every flavour Beans' which had unfortunately comprised mainly of vomit flavoured ones. She hadn't come since, Crabbe and Goyle never came either. Draco supposed those two dunderheads lacked the mental capacity to even realise where the hospital wing was, and Blaise. Blaise was another story to be left explained at a further date.

She hesitated. "Because…" Hermione's answer died away. In the long hours of nerve-wrecking anticipation after the match, she had found time to discover why she was so tense during the match and why she knew she wouldn't be able to bear it if he ever got hurt. It was several moments before she delivered her answer. "Because…I care about you."

For the second time that night, Draco was shocked. Albeit, he recovered momentarily and granted her a sort of half smile. "Well I didn't sustain any life threatening injuries did I?" he chuckled examining his body.

"A bludger to the head is a life threatening injury." Said Hermione, "For a moment there I thought I had lost you." And once again she had unknowingly expressed her tender feelings for him through her words.

"I wouldn't have sustained this injury if I didn't have another vision." Said Draco darkly.

"You had _another_ vision?"

"Yeah, but it -"

"Malfoy this is dangerous," said Hermione warningly, "Quidditch is a dangerous sport! You can't just go out there and play when we have you collapsing at any inopportune moment."

"Granger, listen…this time my vision was different from before."

"What do you mean 'different'?" she asked quizzically.

"It wasn't a hidden memory from my childhood, I was in a jungle somewhere near some ruins…" He said trying to regain his memory. Hermione pondered this for a moment.

"It is possible." She concluded, "It's a good chance that now you're being shown where the ritual would actually take place… a jungle you said? Well I doubt it's anywhere in this country."

He nodded thoughtfully, "By the way Granger…about the match… Slytherin lost, didn't we?" He asked with a forlorn expression flitting across his features. She smiled radiantly.

"No, tied game." She said proudly, "Although I think it was Slytherin's win though, even though I am contradicting my own house. It's the truth. When you passed out the match was stopped. It was clear that you got the snitch, but when that bludger hit you, you kind of dropped it so it wasn't clear who won. They declared it a tied game."

Draco laid back into his bed with a sigh of relief, his insides filling with overwhelming happiness. He had finally done it. It didn't matter if neither won he didn't care. Potter did not grab that snitch and quite frankly Draco couldn't be happier.

Hermione checked her watch. Harry and Ron would probably be wondering where she was by now. "Get well soon Malfoy, as for me, I need to take off before anyone sees me."

"Right."

She hopped off her stool, gave him one last smile and turned to leave. She was already nearing the door when -

"Granger?"

She turned around.

"Thank you." He said in much more subdued voice, as if deciding whether this was the right thing or not. "For your concern."

She was touched, really. With a reassuring smile she turned around and ran back to the Gryffindor Common Room. Draco settled back into his bed and sighed. _I cannot believe I just did that. _

A week and a half later Draco stumbled haphazardly out of the Hospital Wing in a desperate fear, he took a quick glance over his shoulder and ran down the corridor as fast as his legs could carry him, while a very flustered and distraught Madame Pomfrey chased him on his heels.

"Mr. Malfoy! MR MALFOY! I have not released you yet! Come back here this instant! You still need care!" She yelled into the distance, but Draco had already disappeared. "That boy." She muttered darkly. "Mark my words, I'll put him in detention one day."

Draco breathlessly skidded down a dark and lamp-lit corridor, only to knock violently into a girl carrying a stack of heavy books. And by the outraged "Hey" that came from the girl, he recognised her immediately.

"Granger?"

"Malfoy?" She asked, stepping into the dim lamplight to capture a better view of him. "What, what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in the hospital wing?" She straightened out her dishevelled hair.

"As a matter of fact, that's where I had just escaped from." He replied, his breathing returning back to normal.

"Escaped? Malfoy, you know you shouldn't be doing that! For all we know you could still be having concussions or something." She complained sounding annoyed.

"Not to worry, I'm quite fine I assure you." He said losing his patience.

"The last time you told me you were fine, you were lying in a hospital bed with a bandage wrapped around your head." Hermione pointed out.

"Shouldn't you be picking up all those books you dropped?" He asked, directing the conversation away from the patch of a potential argument. She looked down at the mass of fallen books in her close vicinity.

"Oh, right…Actually, I was one my way to bring these to you." Said Hermione. Since Draco's accident at the Quidditch Pitch, Hermione had not been deterred and she continued to see him in the hospital wing. Only on these occasions she brought a stack of books and study materials with her. She bent down on her hands and knees and started to gather them all. Draco, with an overly exaggerated roll of his eyes bent down and helped her. When at last they had reached the last book, it lay in front of the both of them. Simultaneously they reached for it, while doing so their hands brushed each other. Hermione looked down, turning red. In seeing this, Draco handed it to her. She muttered a quick thanks and stood.

"Granger, Since the decathlon is only a couple of weeks away I think we should increase, for intellectually beneficial purposes only, the amount of study sessions." Said Draco as he stood. Hermione seemed to ponder this for a moment.

"I see what you mean, so we can achieve a thorough and in depth knowledge of our topics, yes it would bring an advantage seeing as the other schools already have the advantage of more participants than us. And if an accident like your injury happens once again… I see what you mean." Said Hermione thoughtfully.

"It doesn't have to be every night. You have your Head Girl duties and what-not and I have Quidditch Practices and the such." Said Draco quickly, trying to imply a platonic air between them.

"Well, okay." Said Hermione. "So do you want to skip tonight's session and resume tomorrow night instead?" She asked.

"Hermione Granger passing up the opportunity to study? That's something worth noting down" He mocked.

"Oh shut up." She said half-heartedly as she began to walk away. "And that's five points from Slytherin." She added as she was reaching the end of the corridor.

"For what?" he asked, sounding flabbergasted. "Hey you're abusing your power!"

Hermione turned and smiled mischievously. "Nope. That's five points for running away from the hospital wing and I think Madame Pomfrey would agree with me." And with that she disappeared into the shadows. Draco was left in the lamplight, red in the face and speechless. He opened his mouth to protest but closed it although he hated to admit it, she was right.

The next night the two met at the customary eight o'clock in the Library. Hermione was very upset with very Professor Snape about a previous incident that day involving Neville Longbottom, a spilt potion and a hole eaten through the dungeon floor. All the while through Hermione's accusations Draco tried helplessly to defend his Slytherin honour.

"Snape… the nerve of that man…fifty points… _fifty_." Hermione muttered viciously, looking flustered.

"Longbottom deserved it Granger. In case you didn't notice he _burned a hole in the dungeon floor_." Said Draco defensively.

"That horrid, _horrid _old man." Hissed Hermione, she had crossed a 't' so ferociously that the nib of her quill tore straight through several pages of her parchment.

"Be reasonable Granger, the said 'old man' happens to be a very competent educator." Reasoned Draco serenely, flicking through a page.

"I don't care if he's the best teacher that has ever walked the earth! He's a biased and unjust old git who needs to educate _himself_ on the manner of proper hygiene!" Said Hermione even more furiously before, creasing pages as she turned them. Draco finally looked up to her looking on the verge of laughter.

"Yes the man does desperately need to use a good hair care product but nonetheless he has always treated me with kind regard." He chuckled good-naturedly. It was one of the first times she had ever witnessed him in such a kindly mood.

She gave him an exaggerated look. "Favouritism."

"Don't blame Snape for recognising talent when he sees it." Said Draco proudly. Hermione scoffed and gave him another look.

"Yeah that's if you call _sucking up _a talent. That teacher is an overgrown bat." She argued. "He's completely blind, Parkinson can't even light a fire underneath her cauldron without fussing about her newly acquired manicure."

"Professor Snape is not an overgrown bat. I'll tell you who's a bat, Trelawney. The old woman is completely mad." Said Draco. In an instant, Hermione sprung to the idea of abusing the Divination teacher where the both of them pursued a delightful conversation – one which included many laughs – where they abused and complained about certain members of the Hogwarts faculty. But eventually the flow of conversation had finally arrived to none other than: Dolores Umbridge.

"She was hilarious! A comic genius!" Laughed Draco in reminiscence.

"She was a sick, twisted evil old toad!" Hermione cried in a furious passion. "That wretched hag and her Inquisitorial Squad, practically _lording_ over the school -"

"Hey! I was a part of that Squad! It was position that commanded pride and respect." Said Draco resentfully, although not with as much flair as the girl sitting opposite him when it came to their former Defence instructor.

"It completely undermined the prefect system!" She yelled flailing her arms up in the air, all rational thought of studying forgotten. He raised an eyebrow and watched her in amusement. _She was really cute when she was angry…_

"The school needed extra law enforcement." Reasoned Draco.

"Wait… now I remember!" She cried, retrieving her memory. "You! Yes you!" She started pointing a dangerous finger towards him. "Deducting points from me and my company simply because you disliked us!"

He chuckled at the memory. "Well what can I say Granger?" He said smiling, he found it so fun seeing her worked up like this. "I'm an opportunist."

"And I happen to be Head Girl!" She said, rising from her chair with an air of indignant bravado. "I have the authority!" she claimed jabbing herself proudly in the chest. "Let's see that wicked old toad now!" She shook a nasty finger in the air, "…Carried off by herd of centaurs! Stupid, _stupid _woman! - "

"Uh, Granger?" asked meekly, interrupting and cutting short her passionate rant.

"What?"

"Calm down – breathe - calm down." He advised patiently, making breathing noises as if to remind her of the forever unchanging and automated human action. Even though he knew he would miss the fun of watching her rave, he couldn't help but realise that the tone of her voice was rising to such a dangerous and threatening crescendo to the point that he was becoming a little fearful. Any lesser of a man would have been cowering by now. Honestly, she was giving off the impression that she was reciting an impressive warcry. Like a stern General giving an intensely inspirational speech before sending the first battalion of troops straight into the heart of a war.

She suddenly snapped out of her fiery disposition and surveyed her surroundings. Finally falling back to earth, she sat back looking sheepish. "Heh, guess I got a little bit carried away…"

"A little bit?" He asked sceptically. Hermione calmed her rattled nerves and resumed her mode for studying. After the ruckus of Hermione's very articulated and aggressive opinion silence ensued for the moment, until they finally caught each other's eye and erupted in spontaneous laughter. It was a funny night…

That night, Draco returned to his dorm amused and with a rare smile gracing his naturally handsome features. He sat on his bed and ran a hand through his hair. He couldn't believe what he was feeling that night. Amongst the laughter between them, he surely didn't know why but several times that night… he felt a very strong urge to actually kiss her. And at times he often imagined them doing so. When that thought came across his mind, against all his willpower he found himself _liking_ it. He took several moments to compose himself and kept reminding himself of his heritage.

"I do not like her." He muttered firmly to himself. "I do not like her, I _don't, _I won't and I can't"

Hermione returned to the dorm that night with the feeling as if she were in a dream. She had never felt this way about anyone before, maybe in fourth year with Viktor Krum, but never this strong. The furious blushing, the furtive glances, the annoying butterflies, oh yes she knew what this was. Not to mention her ever growing and strong attraction towards him. She was attracted to him and she had come to terms with that ever since she first hugged him. The way she felt that moment he hugged her back… It was one of the happiest moments she had felt for a long time. At one crazy moment she even imagined having her partner as a boyfriend and found herself muttering, "That would be nice" Immediately she snapped out of it.

"I do not like him." She said in her most persuasive tones. Although as much as she wanted to convince herself as much as that tone of voice could convince Ron or Harry, it did not work on herself. Where was their relationship leading?

There's a certain button at the bottom of this page… hint hint… clicky, clicky!


	8. NonExistence

**A/N: **Another chapter which I really enjoyed writing. DHr fluff yay! Honestly this was intended to be a very, very dark story and I instantly found myself altering the dialogue because it was WAY too angsty. This chapter is a page shorter than the others however this chapter is very significant in the development of the plotline. Enjoy!

**Chapter 8 – Non-Existence **

Hermione slammed the Evening Prophet down on the Dinner table causing an unsuspecting Neville to jump and spill pumpkin juice all over himself. "I'm sick of it! Just so sick of it!" She exasperated. "I've had it with Voldemort! - " A few in the vicinity winced at the use of the name. " – Break outs in Azkaban! Mysterious disappearances, murders and now this! _This!_" She cried patriotically indicating to the Prophet that lay amongst disarray of used knives and forks.

The Great Hall had been buzzing ever so loudly that evening, full of whispers and horrified gasps as repeatedly the story had been retold a hundred times over. That very morning, Lord Voldemort had attacked the town of Little Beecroft, a small town not too far from Hogwarts inhabited mainly of muggles and muggleborns. No surprises there. Mass murder, fires and chaos, the poor town was practically under siege as the ranks of Voldemort ambushed it. On the front page of the Prophet was a picture of the barren town, burnt crisp black to the ground with frantic residents running, screaming and not to mention crying. The big bold headline read:

_**You-Know-Who Makes a Statement:**_

_**The evil potentate return**_

Underneath it ran a lengthy and gruesomely intricate and detailed article that continued on for several pages of the horrible attack where half the town's population had been eccentrically executed at the hands of the Death Eaters and the foreword acts of the ministry.

"Just like last time…" Said Ron gravely; for once he was not vastly inhaling his food, instead chewing it slowly in small proportions as he read the devastating article.

"How do you know?" Asked Harry who sounded just as grave as well as exceedingly furious.

"Mum told me, wanted me and the rest to be, you know, acquainted with the idea to be prepared should something like _his _return happen…" Said Ron gloomily, "And it has."

"It's just that no one suspected his arise to be so imminent." Said Hermione, rereading the article, growing even more belligerent by the passing minute.

… _Following the mass break out in the recent weeks from Azkaban, the ministry can only conclude that You-Know-Who is still at large and gaining power, obviously warning the wizarding community of his further imminent attacks. Aurors report the Dark Mark was seen high above the small and humble town of Little Beecroft minutes before ministry officials had arrived. Many surviving witnesses claim to have seen the convicted and escaped Death Eaters from Azkaban present at the massacre of Little Beecroft and also claim the accused spoke of 'a cause.' Although puzzling ministry officials… _

She looked up from the article with an indignant expression. This 'cause' the Death Eaters had spoken of, she had a shrewd idea of what they meant. Exactly what they meant. Voldemort was preparing the wizarding world and Hermione knew it. It could probably be the most kind action he could preform and yet the most horrible. If Voldemort were to succeed in the ritual then all hell would literally run loose. Perhaps preparing the wizarding world by giving them a taste of what was to come would well be in their favour, although it was a dreadfully kind way. _Sometimes you must make war to make peace_ - she had heard those words before. This was precisely what was happening. Voldemort was gearing us up for the worst and Hermione vowed that she would not allow such an abomination to happen. It worried and struck great fear in her heart that the fate of the entire world depended on an arrogant, conceited seventeen-year-old teenage boy. The mind of Fate was a diabolical twisted mess.

Ron tapped Hermione's shoulder. "Look." He said glumly. She shifted her gaze to where Ron was pointing. Harry had seen too. A fourth year girl not too far from them was bawling her eyes out. No doubt the news concerned her or a very unfortunate member of her family. Finally the truth of Voldemort's return was finally sinking in. Everyone was in danger and every living soul was involved.

Amidst the terrified gossip and low chatter, no one had noticed that their Headmaster Dumbledore had stood to address the school. With a 'tink' from Professor McGonagall's glass the hall was silenced. Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"Ah my dear students," he greeted warmly, "I am sure that you have already been informed by your peers of the dreadful news the Evening Prophet has brought forth to us." He announced sadly extending his arms out to all. "My deepest sympathies and condolences to whom have been affected by this devastating tragedy. But we must never forget the light of hope that shines so brightly within each of our hearts and to not mourn the tragic loss of a loved one, but instead to cherish the time that we have been privileged to spend with them, together." He gave them all a heartfelt smile. It seemed to be the end of his speech, until he spoke again. "Oh and before I forget, I would like to see the decathlon contestants Miss Hermione Granger and Mr Draco Malfoy in my office as soon as possible after dinner if you please." Lastly he gave them an assuring smile and seated himself at the staff table.

Harry and Ron rounded on Hermione. "What's up with the decathlon?" Asked Harry.

"Honestly I don't know." She answered, shrugging her shoulders. "Maybe we're getting more books or something, I have no idea, I'll just find out afterwards." After another reread of the formidable article and a few helpings of chocolate fudge, Hermione made her way towards Dumbledore's office. As she reached the stone Gargoyle, she saw Draco.

"What do you think is happening?" He asked as she approached.

"Why is everyone asking me that? Anyways I don't know, books I suppose." She gave him the same answer as she did Harry. Why did everyone think she knew? Nonetheless Draco rolled his eyes.

"Bookworm." He muttered. Hermione however ignored the last shrewd remark on her love for books and spoke the password. She had already been tolerant of his attitude and that was simply Draco. As the stone gargoyle leapt aside the two stepped into the revolving staircase and into Dumbledore's office where he had already been waiting for the two.

"Welcome, welcome." He conjured two chairs for them. "First I would like to congratulate the both of you on fulfilling my requests, I suspect things are going well?"

Draco and Hermione shared a glance. "Yes sir." Replied Draco.

"No shortcomings, problems, questions or anything of the sort?" Asked Dumbledore, interestedly.

"Quite frankly, no professor." Said Hermione.

"So everything is perfect." Said Dumbledore, "Or _was _perfect I should say."

Hermione shifted nervously in her seat. "What do you mean by that professor?"

"I am not pleased to inform you of this Miss Granger, neither to you Mr Malfoy but regretfully, in the light of recent events the officials and the other Headmasters and Headmistresses of the other participating schools have decided to suspend the date of the decathlon until further notice." Said Dumbledore, eyeing the two carefully.

Hermione's jaw dropped.

"I'm sure it comes as quite a shock to you Miss Granger but it is the truth." Said Dumbledore sadly, placing his hands together.

"B-But why?" sputtered Hermione. On the contrary to Hermione's evident shock, Draco didn't look too fazed, in fact he looked as if it were anything out of normalcy.

"Hogwarts is the school that is playing host to the decathlon Miss Granger." Said Dumbledore, "And as you may already know, the unfortunate town of Little Beecroft is not too a distance away from Hogwarts so in turn as a safety precaution we have decided to delay the date until perhaps these attacks have subsided."

Hermione sank back into her chair. "Will our study sessions continue?"

"By all means Miss Granger. If the both of you feel it advantageous then by all means, please do continue." Said Dumbledore encouragingly.

"Sir, if it's not too much to ask, what date can you estimate will be the reinstated date of the decathlon?" asked Draco, finally speaking since they received the news.

"Honestly, Mr Malfoy it is too early to tell, Voldemort's actions are too unpredictable at this point in time." Said Dumbledore acting equivocally timid.

"So for all we know the decathlon may not even take place at all?" Asked Draco.

"The prospect is possible but highly unlikely Mr Malfoy, the decathlon is a very renowned event I am quite sure it will take place." He turned to Hermione, who shrank back in her chair looking mildly depressed. "The good news is Miss Granger, Madame Pince will be the second half of all the books you have received are to arrive at Hogsmeade after Christmas. She has also requested if you two will be able to fetch them and bring them back here."

As if a light had suddenly been alit, Hermione instantly looked hopeful. "I knew there was more," she whispered. "Excuse me sir, but why has it taken such a long time for the rest of the books to arrive?"

"Grave times Miss Granger, grave times. Too many people are too afraid to step foot out of their houses let alone courier a stack of ordered books, but I trust nothing should go awry for the two of you. So not to worry." He assured them pleasantly. The two students nodded. "Thank you for your time Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy, that is all."

The both of them stood and made their way to the door.

"For all we know this whole thing might be for nothing and the decathlon won't happen." Said Draco as they both reached the corridor.

"Well, you heard him. He says that it's highly unlikely that, that will happen, or won't happen." Said Hermione briskly. Together they rounded another corridor. Draco turned down another one and continued down several flights of steps. Hermione did also.

"Why are you following me?" He asked impatiently. He was nearing the dungeons, if any Slytherin who happened by them were to witness him even walking with her that spelled immediate trouble for him.

"I'm not following you Malfoy, Why would I want to follow you?"

"Perhaps because I'm devilishly handsome and you can't get enough of my looks." He answered quickly looking very alert for any passing student, luckily, he hoped they were still enjoying dessert.

She rolled her eyes. "Shut up. As a matter of fact, I'm supposed to be patrolling the dungeons tonight." She told him sternly. "So don't let me catch you cavorting on a midnight escapade with Pansy Parkinson." She had meant it as a joke but she couldn't help but wonder if there was a possibility she could be right… Oh God she hoped not. When she imagined Pansy's hands running through his soft silky hair…She inwardly cringed at the very thought. But when she manipulated the mental picture and put her hands there instead, she found herself grow warm and blush.

Draco looked ready to hurl. "Jeez Granger, you Gryffindors may live in a saintly circle but it is unknown to all to what an extent your dirty minds are." Said Draco looking disgusted at the thought of a tryst with Pansy. This brought some relief to Hermione as she glanced furtively at his face.

"But have you actually seen the way Parkinson looks at you?" Said Hermione sceptically.

"It's public knowledge that the girl has it in for me, but then again – who doesn't?"

Hermione looked ready to swat him. "That is your enormous ego talking."

"I would think you'd be used to it by now." Said Draco airily. In fact Hermione had, but more outstandingly that was one of his traits she had learned to grow fond of. It was absolutely crazy. Draco had at last reached the entrance to the Slytherin dungeons. He hesitated and turned around to face her, unwilling to speak the password with Hermione at present. She rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips disapprovingly.

"Oh for heaven's sake," she exasperated. "I'm Head Girl, I know them already." She shook her head and took a step. "I'll see you tomorrow night Malfoy," she said as she half-heartedly stormed down the corridor. He took glance in her direction and laughed softly to himself. Most of the time she was a real pain in the ass, but he found that he liked it.

They met the next night, same time, same place –as per usual. They both walked in casually, never questioning what the other felt for the other, regardless of to which extent their resentful feeling had been mollified. Completely in spite himself, Draco was well aware of his tender feelings for the headstrong girl and even more so the burdening pressures of his world as they weighed heavily on his shoulders. It was if he were shackled to the floor by transparent cement and wrought iron chains.

Fear of disappointment and of family expectation was a grossly powerful fear. Like those before him, he hated inadequacy and he would loathe it if that were to become of him. Draco was a person that needed to be in control and his growing feelings for his partner _needed_ to be kept under control. He wanted them to dissipate and vanish forever. She was just a mudblood and he was a Malfoy. Things, certain standards were expected of him. His feelings were nothing more than wrong, practically and on principle. He knew that fact even more so now than he had ever in his entire life. His fondness of her had stop and he would make it stop… or else both their lives would literally be in ruin. Only, he had learned to conceal his emotions, eradicating them completely was a different matter. Perhaps magical intervention would achieve this, but he wasn't ready to result to those means just yet.

He wanted, no, he needed to stop liking the way soft candlelight shone an array of colours in the curls of her hair – From chocolate to chestnut and sometimes even a mild streak of dark blonde. He needed to cease thinking about the wide brightness of her innocently naïve brown eyes. He expected forgetting to feel a jolt of excitement whenever she wasn't afraid to chide or tell him off whenever he was being stubborn arrogant ass would be difficult. However there was nothing Draco Malfoy couldn't accomplish. Her mannerisms were controlling, similar to his, only hers were in a caring motherly-leadership type of way. She was ideally headstrong and didn't give a damn to the irrelevant. But mostly, he needed to forget the way he liked the sheer outrageousness of it all.

But what he could not fathom nor comprehend was: _How did he come from hating her, to this… confusion? _

His mind was then lead to remembering the other day when he _wanted _unbelievably to kiss her. Oh Merlin, the deliciously abhorrent thought. She had done absolutely nothing to make him feel attracted to her, and she was oblivious to all of it – but that's what made her so enticing! He cringed and honestly thought he was going mad. It was crazy. Everything was simply crazy.

Why must he feel this way now, at this conjuncture? Why couldn't they just continue on with their primordial hatred and then everything would be smooth, simple, convenient. But no, life jumped in the way.

_Granger obviously feels nothing for me, _thought Draco. She was just that type of woman and Draco knew it. _So if I do nothing, don't act upon my feelings and pretend like nothing has happened then nothing will happen, _He concluded. _My temporary hormonal feelings will mellow out and disappear, _he though happily. And with a sudden boost of confidence he sat down with her convinced that he was most certainly in control. Little did he know, this night was going to be very… profound.

The night had started out all right, they read, kept quiet, had small talk. Only Draco didn't realise the furtive glances Hermione was giving him when she thought he wasn't looking. Or perhaps it was Hermione who hadn't realised the number of glances Draco was giving her. These quick exchanges continued on for over an hour until there finally came the inevitable point when the both of them caught each other staring.

Hermione dissolved into a fit of giggles as she propped up her head onto her hand. "What?" she asked smiling radiantly.

"Nothing." Said Draco airily, waving it off with a wave of his hand. Hermione gave him a look.

"Then why were you looking at me?" She asked, still wearing that maddening smile.

"I wasn't looking at you, there's a book right passed your shoulder, I was eyeing it wondering whether it would be an interesting read, besides, why were you looking at me?" asked Draco with an elated air of inquisition. God her smile was infectious… He grinned.

"Right, sure." Said Hermione disbelievingly, trying not so hard to conceal her knowing grin.

"Precisely Granger, right." Said Draco, and he was sure that he had ended this awkward conversation by then. Unfortunately it wasn't even silent for even thirty seconds until Hermione perked up.

"So… have you deliberated enough about that book yet?"

He looked up. "huh? I mean – what?" Malfoys were not supposed to sound uneducated and ineloquent.

"The book, that I'm assuming is passed my shoulder – will you read it or not?" She asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Oh right, yeah. I'll just – go get it – now." He stood standing uncomfortably, but he held his head high and strutted towards the bookshelf behind her. Hermione watched him and rolled her eyes. But just as he was passing her, he collapsed. In an instant Hermione was off her chair in an attempt to break his fall. Only she hadn't anticipated how heavy a fairly built seventeen-year-old male was.

"Malfoy!" she yelled just as he came crashing down on her. She squinted her eyes shut on the impact of the fall. They landed quite all right and nothing was injured, except for the fact that…well.

He was on top of her.

They were not in an awkward position or anything of the sort, he was just on top of her with his head laying just beside her left ear. Hermione took in a deep breath as much as she could - his body was kind of hampering her breathing ability.

"Well," she concluded loudly from underneath him, "This is definitely awkward." She breathed out heavily, a seriously crimson blush reddening her entire complexion. "Well, I'm just going to have to wait until he wakes up because I'm not nearly as strong enough to lift Malfoy off me." If Hermione was any lesser of a person, she would have admitted at that very moment that this was as close as she came to fulfilling one of her (as she now newly named them) 'Malfoy fantasies.' She categorized these fantasies as the ones where she was _with _Malfoy, as in _with _him – romantically. Which was really absurd. She took another deep breath in order to calm herself down from the annoying butterflies in her stomach, and the wicked sense of desire that arose in her chest. Without realising it, she caught a whiff of his very pleasant smelling cologne.

"Wow, that smells really good, where did he buy – oh yeah _he's a Malfoy_." She realised. "Of course." She said rolling her eyes for the umpteenth time that night. But honestly it was a very attractive smell. It was masculine and fresh – there was another smell mingled within it that she couldn't describe. Different from the smells she usually liked, different from freshly cut grass or new parchment. But she neither had the willingness or – heaven forbid – the mental capacity to entertain the thought. Her mind, let alone her body, was too concentrated on the closeness of Draco's proximity. Her throat was way too dry by now speak any more sarcastic thoughts aloud. _Damn this was a long vision… _she thought helplessly, only to be interrupted by waves of desire coursing through her.

A second later, a low and pained groan came from beside her – he was waking up. "Oh god…ow, my face." He groaned. As he slowly lifted himself up. He stopped immediately in an instant surprise when he found Hermione underneath him, red as a tomato and smiling nervously.

"Hey there."

He blinked.

"I – uh tried to break your fall." She explained quickly, growing even redder. "But then this happened and I couldn't…" She stopped short when she looked into his eyes. His silvery grey eyes were darkening but behind them she witnessed something inside his grey depths – a desperate swirling emotion. It connected her to him, in ways that transcended her lone imagination.

It was only then that she realised, he was staring at her lips. And before she was aware of anything else that moment, he was leaning in slowly. Hermione's heart quickened in pace, beating like a monstrous drum against her chest. Her world began to spin as unconsciously her eyes drifted shut and she forgot how to breathe. Time slowed and mere moments felt like a passing eternity. She had wanted this and she knew it, she _hated_ it and wanted it.

It was a ghost of a kiss…one that never existed. The moment she felt his warm breath caressing her lips. His presence had vanished. When she opened her eyes, Draco was hastily packing up things. "I-I have to go" he muttered and ran out. Hermione sighed and ran a hand through her hair.

"That must never happen again." She said firmly as she collected herself and stood. "Never."

Draco ran and did not stop until he reached the Slytherin dungeons, chiding, cursing and berating himself the entire way. "Do nothing and nothing will happen, sure, and now look what I do, sure… sure they'll mellow out and disappear. Sure. I'm such an idiot!" He yelled the password and violently stepped inside. "I must control my feelings like this, I must control them, they must disappear." He muttered vehemently under his breath. "I'm so bloody stupid! That was idiocy."

A hand was placed on his shoulder. "Draco." Said a firm voice.

"Blaise." Said Draco, trying to keep himself calm and stoic so his anger would not be seen. Blaise kept a hand on his shoulder and steered him towards a secluded corner of the Slytherin common room.

"We need to talk."

"What's this about Blaise? I'm busy right now." Said Draco, hiding tones of impatience.

"Fine, I'll keep this quick. What's going on with you and the mudblood?" Said Blaise seriously, eyeing Draco carefully. But Draco had been prepared for something like this, his expression remained calm and non-existent.

"What? There's nothing going on between the mudblood and I." Said Draco. "Nothing."

"You seem to be spending quite sometime with her lately." Said Blaise.

"As I said, that's absolutely nothing. Strictly professional. Blaise you offend me by assuming I would demean myself in such a way." Said Draco with an equal tone of seriousness and tension, he stared straight into Blaise's suspicious eyes. Learning occlumency sure did wonders in many aspects of your life. Blaise squinted, as if deciding whether or not to trust him.

"Remember the rules and remember where you come from. She is a line that should not be crossed, no matter how alluring she is." Said Blaise as he released him. "It's forbidden."

"I _know _that!" Draco spat, annoyed. He had just spent the entirety of the last week telling himself the exact same thing. "I don't need a lecture from you."

"I hope so." Said Blaise as he gave him one last lingering look of suspicion, turned and walked away. As soon as Blaise was out sight Draco leaned against the stone of the corner, closed his eyes and sighed.

"Shit this is going to be difficult."

She was driving him crazy, and oh if Blaise knew, that it was in more ways than one. Draco and Hermione hadn't had an inveighed war of profanities and harsh language in an astonishingly long while. And the fact that Hermione was living within complete blissful oblivion when regarding his hidden attraction, was most efficacious on him. It presented to him a challenge on a silver platter – a challenge he was strictly prohibited from embarking on… However it was helpless that he did now and now he was faced with this predicament. Hermione was now informed of his attraction a few minutes ago when they had encountered the non-existent kiss – as he had now referred it.

He sighed once more and trod slowly down towards his dorm. Lassitude consumed him as a result of stress, confusion and not to mention endless contemplation. Draco reached his door and paused before reaching for the handle. "Idiot, idiot, idiot." He whispered banging his head on the door, just before eventually opening it. Carelessly he allowed his bag to slip to the floor with a resonating thump. Massaging his aching temples he lay on his bed. After a moment of silent thought his lips parted. "Her lips _did not_ look enticingly delicious." He told himself.

By the time Hermione had already reached her own Head Girl dorm with her heart thrown into a wild paroxysm, or more like spastic fits. She was so nervous and wracked that she shook, occasionally almost resembling electrocution. Her breathing patterns were uneven and wild and her heartbeat had grown erratic. She paced the front of her bed for the better part of an hour making failed attempts to comprehend just exactly what had happened between her and Draco. She had always been the omniscient one, but when it came to matters regarding certain levels of intimacy towards the opposite sex, she was like a lone duck trapped in shark-infested waters. It was perhaps the only aspect in life or _subject _where Pansy Parkinson would exceed her greatly, in knowledge, experience and theory.

"Ok breathe, calm down, breathe." Hermione said to placate herself. It was so confusing and filled her with fear and trepidation. "I can't, _we_ can't…" Hermione continuously repeated. She had realised that it was Draco who initiated the non-existent kiss but she too had just been at fault. She closed her eyes, she didn't fight, she _wanted _it to happen. If Draco had not stopped, she didn't know what would happen if their lips would in fact meet. Would she lose control? Would _they _lose control?

"Ok, it's confirmed, there's no turning back: I like him." She said. But even as she recited that sentence so simply she felt dirty. She felt like a dirty sinner. A tarnished saint. How could she commit to such an action? She didn't kiss him but she _almost _did. Gratitude towards him surged through her like exhilarating euphoria. Thank the lord Draco harboured the often overlooked and disregarded quality of ultimate self-control. In all those weeks of working with him, she had never been as grateful to have Draco as a partner. Most would argue with her but if by chance the saintly impossibly perfect Hermione Granger were to be paired with another individual and she became attracted to him, what would happen? But the odd fact was that as much as she tried to imagine Draco's face as another's, she couldn't reconstruct this situation. She couldn't imagine being attracted to any other, other than Draco. Eventually she had summarised the situation in three words: "Life is shit."

She often never swore, but the moment deserved it.

Her life had been planned out - grow up throughout Hogwarts, top grades, top marks, graduate become successful and then consider a relationship. She was still progressing towards completing tasks one to three, if only she was born an adult without teenage impulses. If only her body was set in her frame of mind.

Draco sat up that night. He almost kissed her, he was really pissed with himself and Blaise was growing suspicious, if only things could end now. Thankfully he had fended Blaise off for the moment. He didn't even have the time or brain energy to think about why exactly she was willing to kiss him back…

One Review last time. One. Thanks greatly to lilhouseelf who reviewed… I think it was you. You receive virtual chocolate! I have only eleven reviews compared to 1892 hits. 11/ 1892. Now that's a fraction. Come on people! It's just one button… apparently it's more effective to threaten you guys… anyways PLEASE! Eh, it's your choice. But stay tuned for Chapter nine called: Backtrack…


	9. Backtrack

**A/N: **OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG I'm sssssssssssssooooooooooooooo SORRY! I must apologise a thousand times! (bows to all who is reading) sorry its taken me about two months to update. Yeah you know school started and I don't have anymore time to write (which really pissed me off) I'm finishing the last of my assessments which is good so I get more free time! Yay! I'm really sorry for not updating, you don't have to comment or review if you don't want to. My little gift to you, not begging for reviews. I finally turned off the 'not allowing anonymous review' thingy so you don't have to sign in anymore! Yay! Anyway, in compensation for my extreme tardiness, I have posted two chapters which I hope you will enjoy.

**Chapter 9 – Backtrack**

From that day on since their non-existent kiss, Blaise constantly kept an annoying close watch on Draco at mealtimes and in the Slytherin common room. Luckily however, he couldn't play watchout in the Library when they studied. Madame Prince made sure that any student being seen within the near vicinity of them was to be put to detention immediately. (She was really big on winning this thing) Besides, the Library closed near eight o'clock when their sessions began. Draco was thankful.

However Blaise's presence did impose a great impact on him. Knowing Blaise was scrutinizing his very movements was like being violently thrown back into the past, it was like being thrown back into reality and being shackled to it. Granger was completely off limits, and he hated her…or at least he tried with every fibre in his body to. He couldn't hate her; he could just hate her heritage but not her. He still stood for the reasons in which purebloods were superior in every aspect, but then what would that make she? To hell with all the other mudbloods in this godforsaken school but to him she was the special one. Although the thought presented a tinge of disgust he remembered: truth was not gentle, it was harsh, demeaning and glaring.

If he could not hate her, then he would feign it. That was something he excelled at especially. He was born to learn that very quality. The quality of manipulation… Manipulation and influence, it was the very corner stones of the rich and successful. Feigning hatred was not to be a problem for him. He discovered that in his early years, every emotion was accessibly easy. The most difficult principle or emotion to feign was courage. Fear was paralysing and blatant – easy to recognise and easy to pinpoint. It had taken many years for him to perfect courage. It made him so ridiculously mad when he thought of the Gryffindors because they could fake nothing. They wore their emotions on their sleeve and instantly they were courageous super-heroes. Heroic and daring. Potter was the perfect example. They were _born _with courage while Draco had to work at it – but he was a Slytherin, determination was also a trait Salazar idealised and he had to take pride in that.

_I hate her, I hate her, I hate her. She is nothing to me. She is a mudblood. I hate her, I hate her, I hate her. _

That was his mantra. It kept his façade solid and firm. He did not look at her at mealtimes, he sneered when passing her in hallways and had returned to his old habit: Being disgusted at her when at the breakfast table. Although at the moment, Blaise was still not entirely convinced. But Draco was confident he knew it was only a matter of time before Blaise would accept that the natural patterns of life had been reinstated.

But Lord. Merlin oh Merlin, it was one day and already he was finding this difficult. Self control, Draco had enough to last him a lifetime and then some. It was arduous and took all of it to keep his act from crumbling beneath his fingertips. In the day and a half in which he had undergone his ignorance crusade he had learned one crucial thing about life: Temptation was just as dangerous as fear. Though it was paralysing it was impulsive, but the extreme danger of the both of them was that both were blatantly obvious. Therefore both were extreme disadvantages when imbuing yourself within a clandestine…_affair_… or _romance_, if you will. Avoiding Hermione Granger was very hard. She was ubiquitous she was everywhere. The fact that she was granted the position as Head Girl did not help things either, but what did help, was that she apparently was doing her best to avoid him also.

Two nights ago - night when they almost kissed, Hermione decided to evade him until she could thoroughly sift through her scattered thoughts. People normally went away for a while to think or to get some fresh air to regain their clarity, and since Hermione could do neither with a busy schedule and a bustling school she did the closest thing she could do. She avoided the problem – him. Only, the more she tried to avoid him, the more he kept appearing and it was apparent that he was doing his best to avoid her also. So why then did fate become so evilly twisted and decide to continually bring them together? She almost kissed the guy for heaven's sake! She needed peace of mind and closure! But no, he was always there. Out of all her options, ranging from cutting ties with him to forming a relationship with him – which was so crazy it was almost obscene – she decided to simply pretend like it never happened. It always worked for the meantime. _For the meantime _being the operative words.

Although both did their best to avoid each other and think through this situation, they both knew that it was inevitable that they had to meet, the night after the next. It was this formidably fearful moment that both Hermione and Draco dreaded for the past two days: The moment in which the both of them would finally be obliged to meet.

When Hermione reached their table that night she determinedly stalked in with a nervously wide smile plastered across her features. "Good evening Draco" She greeted cheerfully, feigning her cheeriness. Was she being too obvious? She practically beamed at him. He said nothing in reply and neither did he acknowledge that she was vivaciously standing in front of him. Hermione stood there awkwardly for a moment deciding her next course of action. Quickly she sat down. Although she was very unsure of herself at this very moment, she putting up a damn good show to hide it… sort of. She was good at sticking to what she knew, and that was a book. Often within the duration of their time she'd look up to him to say something, open her mouth, close it and say nothing at all. However Draco said nothing, did nothing and practically ignored her.

Although on the surface he emitted the impression of rude ignorance, inside he was well aware of her awkwardness, tension and uneasiness. He had even taken notice of the moments where she reluctantly looked to face him perhaps to catch his eye and start a conversation. He did not look up, face her or even say 'hello' in spite of its difficulty, he did it anyway. This was his plan. His arduous plan. The forces of nature had somehow been suspended between them, it was time he put them back in its place.

Sighing, he looked up, though determinedly avoiding her eye and all the while making it look natural. It was a large Library with an old high roof adorned with cobwebs occupying the timber planks. Within one of these silvery strings he saw a spider. There was an insect caught in this spider's web and the more it tried to escape and release itself from the sticky silvery substance, the more it was wound up in it. The spider, eerily and symbolically crimson in colour crept up to this failing insect and swallowed it whole. The poor creature was now lost inside this red predator. He had no reason why he was so engrossed in this small yet naturally grotesque scene but he tore his eyes away from it knowing that _her _eyes were on him as well. Rolling his eyes he finally acknowledged she was in the room.

"Yes?" He asked scathingly.

"Um… I was just wondering…I." Hermione began tentatively. The words had soon left her.

"Spit it out, I haven't got all day." He snapped, looking at her as if she were a squashed bug underneath his expensive Italian leather shoe. Looking a little hurt by his expression and the horrible tone of his voice, she ploughed on.

"… Never mind." She muttered quietly, looking away. However, a split second later she gathered her courage deciding to face him. "Did I do something wrong?" She asked ever so earnestly. He gave her a look of disgust, rolled his silver eyes and never gave her an answer. He was making her feel really stupid right now. "What did I do?"

"Don't talk to me." He spat looking as if she offended him. She blinked, quelling her rising anger. _What was up with this bloke?_

"Tell me, what the hell did I do?" She said forcefully, raising her voice in frustration. Again, studying was completely forgotten.

"And I told you don't talk to me, don't even look at me and shut up. Your voice is irritating so do as I say and shut your trap." He snapped.

"Malfoy -" She reached out to touch him but he slapped her hand away looking disgusted. "Ok now what the hell is wrong with you? Who are you? Why are you acting like this?"

"I said shut up mudblood!" He yelled. The look on her face at that moment was enough to tug at quite a few of his heartstrings. Draco looked away and closed his eyes to collect himself. _This is all part of the plan. The plan. Remember the plan. _He checked his watch briefly and made for the exit.

"Hey!" Hermione called, running up to him and grabbing his robes. He turned to her, gave her a look of ice and yanked his robes out of her grasp muttering something about burning them tomorrow. Draco exited roughly pulling open the Library doors and sighed heavily running a hand thickly through his hair. He left her there.

"Damn… at least the difficult part is over… I hate her. I hate her and I should act accordingly which is exactly what I did so hoorah for me." He sighed. Though as much as he had praised himself for his unwavering and consistent performance, he could not erase from his mind the heartbreaking picture of her torn expression. He did not know exactly how long he could continue with this façade.

Hermione watched him leave feeling utter misery hinted with confusion. She blinked back her rising tears and packed up her books. "And they said women were confusing." She mumbled vehemently in a fuelled anger. She clicked her tongue in annoyance. "Why is he so rude? Why did he bloody treat me that way? Well, it should come as to no surprise I mean he is Malfoy but…he was different. Not the Malfoy I know. Wait, do I _know _him?" Soliloquies were things she often recited not for theatrics and effect but out of pure habit.

That night Hermione decided to confront him. Malfoy was being a stupid child and she had to get to the bottom of this renewed act of hatred. She had no idea what she did. _He_ _was trying_ to kiss _her_ not the other way around. Late into the night, she was contriving her own little plan.

Draco looked around the corner to check for any sign of her. She was gone. Emitting a great sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxed and he continued down the dim lamp lit corridor on his way to the Slytherin dungeons back from classes. The entire day Granger had been following him. He had no idea as to the reason behind this act of espionage on her behalf; he was quite convinced that his performance the previous evening was enough to coerce her into despising him again. _What was this girl? _He thought to himself helplessly. As much as he knew she wanted to remain concealed to spy on him to catch a moment when he was vulnerable and confront him, she wasn't very good at it. Either that or he could acknowledge the fact that he spent his childhood years learning to recognising things such as these, such as espionage. In an instant he was yanked from the side and off his feet.

"Ah! Who the bloody hell! Unhand me you blundering uncouth pervert!" Draco yelled blindly as he vacillated into a dark and empty classroom with none other than the girl that he was trying to avoid. All day. _Didn't expect that. _"Oh, it's you."

"Yes me." Said Hermione with an untimely sense of authority, which happened to suit the situation just perfectly. She stood there towering over his fallen body, her hands on her hips. Draco thought she was such a pain in the ass when she did that, it made him feel like such an idiot.

"What the hell do you want?" He snapped in annoyance as he scrambled off the floor trying to regain his dignity. He refrained from smiling as he stood. He loved being taller than her just so then she'd have to look up to him. And when he saw her head slowly recline to his height, his dignity was reinstated along with his immensely large superiority complex.

"What did I do?" She asked, looking at him almost angrily.

"Be born." He drawled, crossing his arms and looking away as if she wasn't worth looking at. It was extremely difficult to do that to her and yet he did. He practically portrayed the air and the look of an arrogant dick everyday - he couldn't discern what made this occasion different from the rest. The way that she looked at him just then was just plain scary. She was very scary when she was livid.

"Don't give me that prejudiced bullshit. And give me an answer." Warned Hermione turning shades of red. _Ok, _thought Draco, _now she's mad. However I'd rather not say anything, perhaps its time to bail. _Draco simply stared at her lazily his cover illustrating no indication that it would crack. This was his talent. He rolled his eyes and turned away.

"Get lost." He muttered over his shoulder opening the door, so that the dim light bathed the room in a shy yellow. This infuriated Hermione.

"Why are you acting like this?" She yelled, in his pursuit.

"Because I hate you." He said brusquely over his shoulder quickening his pace to hopefully escape her. There was no such hope.

"Oh really? You hate me?" She asked in loud and exaggerated scepticism as she trailed him. "Then why did you almost kiss me?" She asked in a loud stage whisper. Draco, completely thrown off by this question, stopped dead in his tracks.

"Bloody smart." He mumbled underneath his breath. It took a full moment to wonder whether he should turn around and drop this act or keep walking. He decided to proceed with his initial thought: bail. He continued to walk at a brisk pace until his echoing footsteps were no longer heard, by this time he was out of sight. Hermione watched him leave, a wild anger rising in her chest. With a loud cry of frustration, a cry that sounded like a furious cat, she stomped deliberately back to her dorm cursing as she went.

Draco returned to his dorm, cursing loudly. It was a very intelligent question to ask, one that took him aback almost completely. He collapsed onto his bed, glaring at the ceiling. He was angry at the fact that she had this sort of effect on him it was ludicrous. He could easily do the same thing to Pansy and feel no remorse. Pansy he could ignore, hate and insult, even if she was one of his '_friends'_ (_that word is so overrated_, thought he). The girl had a two-second-rebound rate. Besides, Pansy wasn't Hermione. Granger 'cared' for him (another overrated term), and that was an amazing feat. She was on to him and he knew it. He had to admit even his own actions were odd, from a conversational relationship plunged back into hatred. It was confusing but necessary.

The next day he wanted to make his message clear. Every time he saw her, he wasn't going to turn his head and act like an arrogant snob, he wasn't going to glare at her with everything he had, he was going to treat her like he did with all the mudbloods, like shit. Why should she be exempted? You could call this dire result childish, but he however, called this new sub-plan ingenious, even though he disregarded the fact that even Neville Longbottom could have done the same. Potions first period – time to test his method.

Draco sat back lazily on his chair and rested his feet up onto the chair in front of him, he looked like a perfect arrogant ass. He smirked at all as he did so. He received a few despicable glares of disgust from some Gryffindors but he couldn't give a damn about them. There was only one person that this scene was intended for. And there she was. She walked in as her hair flew about her. She took one glance in his direction to find him already glaring venomously at her as if she was the reincarnation of Hitler or something, not that he would know who Hitler was anyway.

She walked in and Draco was in position. He glared at her as coldly and as hatefully as he could, it seemed to be working. At first she looked confused but a split second later she was glaring back at him with a superfluous flair. Feeling ousted; he gave her an obscene hand gesture. It was the universally insulting gesture where only one finger was standing. The gesture yielded the exact results he was hoping for. Looking extremely insulted, a vein popped in her head. She retrieved her wand from her robe and pointed it at him.

Immediately he was scared. Never underestimate the power of Hermione Granger with a wand in hand and a head full of useful spells.

He relaxed however, when Professor Snape in all his dreaded bat-like glory, stalked in and she hastily stowed her wand away. For the remainder of the lesson he was very contented sitting there in the dungeon up until the last few remaining minutes when Goyle pointedly looked at him. His face was screwed up as if he was trying to sort out a difficult problem. He looked like a fat pug involved in a freakish car accident that seemed to have introverted his features.

"Er… uh Draco?" Asked Goyle stupidly. "Where are your eyebrows?"

Draco's jaw dropped. - Gasp. Shock. The Horror! - His hand flew to his face. Immediately Draco scrambled into his robes for his pocket-mirror (oh-so-vain) and checked that his two perfectly blonde arcs were still in place. He didn't need to though for he knew for once that Goyle was right.

"THAT BITCH!" Whispered Draco upon confirming that his perfectly shaped eyebrows had been cleanly erased. Hastily extracting his own wand, Draco reinstated his formerly missing eyebrows… He suddenly found that hating Hermione Granger was becoming a much easier task. Much easier. "She made me an eyebrow-less freak!" Draco whispered to himself. "How dare she, how dare that smug little harpy!"

"Is there anything the matter Mr Malfoy?" Said Snape suddenly. Draco's head snapped up and he feigned the look of innocence.

"It's nothing sir." Said Draco darkly, shooting a deadly glare in Hermione's direction. She looked back at him with a contented smug expression; it was like looking into a mirror. "Laugh it up bitch, laugh it up…" He muttered as Snape returned to his sharp-witted lecture. This time, he was determined. And when he was determined, he was unstoppable. "…While you can."

After that smug expression from Hermione, Draco vowed to crush her. She was not going to get the last laugh, _that_ he knew. Tuning Snape's dreadful lecture out of his mind, he spent the last few minutes of the lesson vindictively scheming against her. Even if he was the girl that he envisioned in his dreams (he hoped that they would really go away, then again he welcomed them in some oxymoron fashion) their entire relationship was oxymoronic. Such irony! Devious conspiring ensued, and suddenly Draco was beginning to like even more his certain connections with certain individuals…especially the dead. His plan would commence the following day…

Hermione was ready to explode. She wanted to scream until her lungs burned for oxygen, shrivelled up and died. That was how annoyed she was. For the entirety of the day ever since breakfast and all through during classes, Peeves followed her. And it wasn't like he was trying to hide it either; he was constantly in her face the entire time. And as if that weren't bad enough, every time she opened her mouth whether she was speaking or not, he blew an insanely loud raspberry, making sure to shower her with transparent saliva. Hermione only had a very shrewd idea as to who was responsible for this deliberate…disturbance.

Draco sat back at the dinner table and marvelled at the chaos he created. His eyes glistened and almost teared from laughter as he watched for the umpteenth time, Hermione's cheeks flush red in a raging fury. Peeves was perfect, he was insatiable. This was the exact effect Draco had been hoping for. _I am a genius_, he thought to himself smugly. "That's right laugh it up." He chuckled. "Laugh it up."

He took another sip of his pumpkin juice and smiled maliciously, a maddening glint his eye as Peeves blew another wet raspberry. He gulped the juice deliciously savouring the moment, forever thankful that the previous night he had popped off to the Bloody Baron for a lovely little chat.

Blaise who was sitting beside Draco, laughed along with him. "Genius Draco, absolute hilarity!" He gasped. He immediately knew what was going on. Blaise had seen what a certain Head Girl had done to Draco's eyebrows in Potions the day before. _He must have been really affected by it_, thought Blaise inwardly, _Draco usually doesn't speak with the Bloody Baron, because he's shit scared of him and all. _But even though this conniving prank was out of the norm to Draco, or any Slytherin for that matter, he had never seen Draco more lively. And in fact, he no longer quibbled of Crabbe and Goyle's snoring, which was an earth-shattering feat as it was like an obligatory daily ritual.

Hermione tossed and turned in her luxuriously soft covers that night. The fact that they were warm and luxurious did not help. Finally she threw off the covers in frustration and sighed. Peeves' raspberries had finally been kyboshed. After dinner, Peeves had trailed along after her, bobbing annoyingly around her head right up to the Gryffindor Tower and almost into her private dorm. That was until Professor McGonagall with her lopsided hat and flared nostrils, ordered him out quite vehemently.

Letting out a long slow breath, she replaced her covers and turned to her side. Hermione closed her eyes and put her hands together in concentration. Revenge was in process.

When Draco woke that morning, he felt refreshed and free. The incidents of the previous day had been extremely welcoming, and not to mention relaxing. Laughing and amusement was the quickest cure for any sorrow. Ah, if only such an ethereal utopia outlasted an eternity. He brushed and showered as per usual, but the real dilemma only had begun as he stepped in front of the mirror as he wore his trousers. Hermione's revenge was already taking effect. He didn't believe it at first and thought it was some odd trick of the light, or some dream-like illusion. For a moment he even considered that he was trapped inside a nightmarish hell and pinched himself hard. It wasn't a dream. When he came to this realisation, he screamed.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!" He yelled at the top of his lungs, drowning out the monstrosity of Crabbe and Goyle's snores combined. His hands slapped to his face in absolute horror, his face ivory white, and his mouth dry. He stared unblinkingly at himself, seized in shock. Cities fell, the heavens rained fire and the earth was swallowed whole.

Etched clearly on his face in large capital letters were horrific letters. "V…" He read weakly, "…I…R…" and they were written in – "G…I…" – pimples, they shone and pulsated as large mountainous bumps on his flawless skin in all their painful pus glory. As he recited the last letter, he remembered… these were irremovable. He screamed. He screamed enough to wake the dead.

Crabbe stirred. "…Draco…?" Immediately Draco whipped around.

"Don't look at me!" He yelled as if he were a hideous malformed failure of a science project. Sparing not a second, he dashed straight into the bathroom and locked the door. Panting, he ran a hand through his hair. _That bitch, that evil, evil cruel bitch… _Draco knew these pimples were irrevocable, he knew about that Ravenclaw girl… Marietta Edgecombe was her name. She still has the word 'sneak' written across her face and Draco knew that only Hermione was powerful enough to preform such identifiable magic, this must have been a variation of it.

Suddenly, someone pounded heavily on the door. "Oi Draco! What the hell's wrong? You woke up the whole freaking castle!"

"Shit… Blaise." Draco breathed worriedly. "I can't let him see me like this."

"Draco come out and tell me what the hell is wrong!" Blaise yelled forcefully. "Pansy is worried hell about you!"

"Go away Blaise." Came a muffled voice from the other side of the door. The small crowd that had congregated like an interested swarm of ants behind Blaise, listened intently.

"Draco… what's going on?" Asked Blaise quietening his tone. He pressed his ear up against. From what he could hear, Draco was clearly slumped against it, breathing raggedly.

"Never you mind Blaise." Snapped Draco, finally coming into terms with his usual self. He pushed off the bathroom door and began to examine himself in the semi-fogged up mirror. As he carefully scrutinized his face in an almost mourning fashion, a soft thump was heard on the other side. "And you can also tell those nosy little idiots listening in to get the hell out and go to breakfast!" He bellowed grumpily. "Out, now! And Blaise, you're wasting your time because I am not coming out!"

"Quick, get out of here before he curses you all!" Blaise whispered quickly to the crowd, ushering them out. "You too Pansy." A distressed looking Pansy took a last worried glance at the door and followed suit. Draco heard the shuffling of feet and he knew that everyone was out, except Blaise.

"I told you Blaise…" Draco began to warn. An exasperated sigh.

"So you're not even coming to breakfast?" Asked Blaise. "You're neglecting your beloved coffee?" He was using this as some sort of coaxing mechanism.

"I'll be lucky to even get to classes at all." Draco mumbled miserably. A few minutes passed with Blaise urging Draco to emerge from the confines of the bathroom. "Bloody hell, okay!" Yelled Draco.

"So, you're coming out?"

"NO!" Draco tried a few more spells to remove the pulsating pus volcanoes from his face. As he expected, it didn't work. "… Fine if you're really that desperate then find Marietta Edgecombe, Raveclaw, if you're intelligent enough, you'll know what happened."

With a sigh, Blaise rolled his eyes and resigned to the fact that this was the only clue he'd receive from him. He didn't know who the hell Marietta Edgecombe was anyway.

Draco appeared to be absent from all his classes today realised Hermione as she sat back in her chair smugly, almost appearing to be the exact image of Draco. She basked in this triumphant glory. Absolute glory. The spell must have worked, she was sure as hell glad that, that spell _did_ actually work. Heck, she spent almost all night occupied in attempts to invent a variation of the spell she had put over that piece of paper two years ago when the DA was still in course. Everyone was now well acquainted with who Marietta was: a SNEAK. And if Draco had allowed anyone to see his face they would know that he was… well, she didn't know if he _was _one or not. She simply enigmatically knew that such a word emblazoned across his face would damage quite a lot of his pride. She giggled in delight. Sweet delightful glory, sweet triumph, they whispered her name.

It had been hours now as Draco checked his watch. He had been slumped all in his dorm. About an hour after everyone left he finally exited the bathroom and prowled into his room and hastily locked the door so there was not a chance that any wandering student could have walked in on him in his current state. Whenever he was hungry, he dared not escape but instead he conjured food. This plan suited him for a while. Although these horrendous pimples refused to fade, there was one thing that bothered him amongst other things, boredom.

He had spent the first hour cursing the Granger girl whilst happily dreaming gory and agonising methods in which to murder her, but his dreams could only entertain him for only so long. The next hour he spent uselessly cursing the pimples themselves. He _never ever _was unfortunate enough to have to suffer the damning adolescent occurrence of pimples and he prided himself in that. It was part of what he thought made him look desirable. This then led to the further expansion of his ego. But to even just have one! He would turn mad. But ten-zillion bumpy pus filled abominations conveniently arranged in a special formation, was humiliation beyond reprieve. That was humiliation beyond being seen with a Weasley. Virgin, she just had to choose that word. Smart girl. That damn smart girl. Damn her to the depths of hell.

He checked his watch again, probably for the fifth time that hour. It was dinnertime; everyone would be in the Great Hall. He pondered the thought of stepping outside and seeing daylight for once, but decided against it. There would be some stragglers; he wouldn't risk being seen. He had to surface somehow. Perhaps Blaise or someone who slept in his dorm had a mask. Unlikely, but his desperation was drawing on the horizon.

He began rummaging through everyone's trunks. Some may call this an extreme breach of privacy, however he didn't care. He doubted that his room mates would give a damn either. Besides, he was Draco Malfoy. He could do anything. Just as he emptied the contents of Blaise's trunk he came across a book. Not just any book. It appeared to be some sort of graphic pornographic novel. Draco lifted an eyebrow. _Blaise actually reads, I mean, looks at this!_ _He reads this vulgar rubbish? _Draco, half-interested flipped casually through it. Sure he was like any other average adolescent male, he too had his sexual desires and appreciated the assets of the female body. He flicked to a page. There. The witch was painstakingly hot and sexy, however she was tacky, no class. Completely vulgar, no modesty no class, she was certainly not brought up with the right heritage. He'd rather appreciate girls who _were real _and none of these fake dream model stereotypes he'd never get his hands on. Apparently Blaise was different.

"_Alohomora!"_ Bang!

In an instant the said teenage boy made an appearance in the doorway. Draco yelped and grabbed a pillow to conceal his face. Blaise stood there staring at Draco confusedly. "Draco…oh you found it. You could have just asked me for it…"

"What?" The novel dropped from his hands. "What? No way! You actually look at this tacky rubbish?" Draco's muffled voice came from behind the pillow.

"Nope." Said Blaise smoothly, "Confiscated it. Earned Slytherin quite a few points."

"Oh." Sighed Draco. Thank God. "What are you doing here?"

"You should have told me about the pimples." Said Blaise. Marietta Edgecombe was not so hard to find. She still had remnants of SNEAK written across her nose and cheeks. "What word did she write on you?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "You really do not want to know the answer to that."

"Try me."

Draco looked hesitant. "You dare laugh and I will make sure to hex you into next week and deem you unemployable for life. I have my connections you know." Draco warned. Blaise looked eager and radiant. Slowly the pillow lifted from Draco's face. Inch by inch revealing apprehensively the horror that lay beneath. Blaise squinted to read the word. "V-I-R-G-I- HA!" He erupted in the loudest laughter Draco had ever heard. He sounded like a mental patient on a ridiculous ecstasy high. Draco glared and brandished his wand within two-seconds.

"Blaise." He said warningly. Blaise contained his laughter and tried to look Draco in the eye. His lower lip quivered and his eyes began to tear. It was not long before Blaise was bellowing with laughter. Again.

_Oh the humiliation…_

"Petrificus Totalus!" Blaise's body fell limp and landed with a hollow echo like a piece of freshly cut timber. "Try laughing now." Draco scowled at Blaise and retrieved a silk black handkerchief from his trunk and tried it about his face so only his eyes upwards could be seen. Stepping in front of the mirror, his scowl deepened. He looked like a cheap bandit. God help him. Turning around, he muttered the counter-jinx and Blaise was up.

"You're really going to walk around the school looking like _that?_" Asked Blaise, nonplussed.

"Do have a better idea?" Draco snapped, stressing every word.

"You look ridiculous."

"Yes, I've established that." Said Draco darkly as he thrust open the door.

"Where are you going?"

"To the Library." And with that Draco left. He crept stealthily through the dungeons and halls making sure to not be seen. He wished more than anything did at the moment that he could have Potter's invisibility cloak, he would buy one, but they were an extremely rare find. Slipping quietly through the Library doors he immediately dived into an empty row of shelves, hoping not to be noticed. He wanted to be lost inside the Labyrinth of bookshelves as quick as he could.

Hours later, after dodging quite a few encounters, some them coincidentally happened to be Hermione Granger stalking around (at these points he did everything in his power to resist Avada-ing her), he finally found a book with a cure. It was the thinnest book in this Library and it was a wonder that he spotted between two insanely large ones, and it told him the simplest cure, Essence of Murtlap. It was really simple, they had that stuff in _abundance _around the school and in the hospital wing. Instead of this simple fact bring joy and relief to Draco, it only caused him to grow angrier.

"Essence of freaking-Murtlap! It was that freaking simple! How bloody ridiculous! I'm going to _kill _her! She designed the jinx to be so bloody simple to remove so I wouldn't think of removing that way!" He hated her; it was her intelligence that he hated the most. She was too cunning, she should have been put in Slytherin, or Ravenclaw to the very least. But Gryffindor? What was the hat thinking? That was just shameful. In three seconds he was off his seat and on his way to the hospital wing.

Draco slowly opened his eyes, squinting before fully allowing himself to see his reflection. He had just applied Essence of Murtlap to his virgin pimples and found that his skin was blemish free. He felt elated, jovial, relieved. Uncharacteristically pumping his fist into the air, he let out a cry of glee. It was as if he were a child again. Breathing out evenly he collected himself and cleared his throat. "I am calm, perfect, I am a Malfoy." That was his reassuring sentence. The one sentence kept him under control. His face was clean! Free! Now…to rub it into the face of Hermione Granger. Only, he would have to wait until their meeting the next day, he didn't have any classes with her tomorrow.

Hope you enjoyed and click the little button that says 'next' because the next one is a good one!


	10. Trysts and Warfare

This chapter was so hard for me to write… yeah but it is very profound and will leave most of you going "FINALLY!" But anyways…start reading… enjoy! Hopefully…

**Chapter 10 – Trysts and Warfare **

Draco ambled lazily into the back of the Library, purposefully late to make a production of a grand entrance before her. He strutted towards their table and found she already had her nose in a book. He stood there leaning his weight on one foot, his bag slung casually over his shoulder, smiling maliciously at her. She looked up, smirking.

"Are you still Mr. Virgi - " She stopped short, his pimples were gone and there was no trace that they had even existed. Her jaw dropped. "How did you - ?"

"Think I'd stay like that forever mudblood? I think not." He scoffed condescendingly and took a seat, propping up his feet on the table. Hermione snapped her mouth shut and fumed silently. Her triumphant glory went poof! It was gone, disappeared like snuffed out candle to be replaced by hatred and anger. "So what's the news mudblood? Did the old coot tell you when this thing will be over and done with?"

He received an ignorant silence.

"Mudblood?" Asked Draco expectantly, this was his revenge. Pathetic, but it was revenge. He wanted to hurt her as much as possible. No one messed with Draco Malfoy and escaped scott free, punishment was necessary.

"Don't call me that." She muttered, violently flicking a page.

"I didn't ask for your opinion, I asked for whether you received any news from that senile old man." Said Draco as if she were a naïve child. His tone made her seethe.

"Don't call him a senile old man either." Said Hermione darkly. He sneered at her.

"You and your little boyfriend Potter, Dumbledore's little defence army. What? Can't the ancient defend himself? No he needs half-bloods, blood traitors and filthy mudbloods to protect him." He drawled, pushing all the right buttons. He pressed every single one of them and surprisingly, she rose to the bait like a starved fish.

She snapped her book shut with a resounding snap. "SHUT UP! I will tolerate the glaring, the thing with Peeves, but I will not tolerate _you_!" She yelled, her nostrils flared, cheeks red and her hair in disarray. She stood up, looming over him. "You and your stuck up attitude! You just think you're better than everyone else because you're pureblood. Well guess what? Grow up! I'm tired of it. I'm tired of it especially coming from you. I thought there was some hope for you but I guess I was wrong because you're still the same, you're still annoying and you're still a good for nothing son a of a bitch!"

"Now you listen here mudblood!" He cried rising to her level. "You have no right to tell me how I should act, what I should say and where I say it. I have every right to be the way I am and guess what? I am a pureblood meaning you and all your filthy pestilential nation can pack your bags and go to hell, because you don't belong here!"

If she could take back all the things she said, she would. She would go back in time if she could, just not to hear him say these things again. There was a time over the past weeks in being with him that she came to understand him a little better and eventually grow to like him. He was nice in his own way, egotistical yet charming, condescending yet he made it look good. But to hear him say all these things once more was like rewinding a tape that was too well into the song to be rewound. This wasn't Draco. This was his mask. She would have to break it. Grabbing a book she threw it at him, whether or not it flew into his nose, or if he caught it, she didn't care. She just wanted to escape.

Draco caught the book. Her eyes were glazed with tears but with extreme will power she held them back. The plunging flood waters of guilt rose on him. He wanted to hurt her but she was his special one. Had he not realised the effect she had on him? Had he not realised her numbing effect?

Had he not realised his feelings towards her?

Hermione made her way to the nearest exit. "Hey! Where are you going?" asked Draco, his tone sounding desperate. "Don't turn your back on me." He warned. She whipped around tears streaking her face.

"Why do you hate me? Why on earth do you despise me so much? What is it about me that angers you so much? Why do you believe that my presence rots the perfectly clean air you have no choice but to breathe?" She demanded desperately. Her tears fell freely.

These questions, her so many questions shocked him into silence. He dropped his vengeful façade. "You don't want to know." He muttered quietly turning his back on her. She ran up to him, grabbed his robes and forced him to turn and face her imploring eyes.

"For God's sake answer me!" She yelled, desperately tugging his robes. He simply looked at her hard, with his cold grey eyes. He narrowed his eyes at her and searched hers for some meaning and truth. He saw strength in her that he had never seen in anyone before. Even here as she cried grabbing him. She was strong. Despite this, he refused to tell her a century old truth. He hesitated to tell her the very reason why he was supposed to hate her so. Grabbing her wrists, he pried her hands off him and told her quietly. "I have a valid reason, but my real question is, is can you handle it?" His tone was low and calm.

She rolled her teary eyes and exasperated. "Try me." Sounding frustrated. Her aggravation was growing at his poised level of solemn patience. "You'd better tell the truth or by god I swear I will hex you into oblivi -"

"Fine!" He barked abruptly, his patience running thin. "You really want to know? You really want to know mudblood?" He hissed, advancing on her. In a state of mild shock, she cautiously stepped a few paces back, widening the distance between them. "It is your very presence that offends mudblood, your existence and the existence of your kind disgusts me!" He spat, glaring at her.

"But why?" She interrupted innocently.

"Why? _Why! _Because my family has spent twelve hundred years to get to where we are today! Because my family has spent twelve generations of pure wizarding race to flourish magic to keep it strong and alive. To not let magical blood die out. All the effort my entire family exerted into keeping the pure wizarding race alive! It all goes to waste!" He spat venomously. "It all goes to waste because you -" he pointed swiftly at her. "You and your kind are born out of the blue to those, _those people!_ All the effort, the work, the time, the generations that have made my blood pure goes to waste! It is all wasted because effortlessly those non-magic people spawn creations _just like you_!" He yelled furiously.

Hermione stood shocked and dumbfounded, staring at him blankly. And so she finally knew the truth. She finally knew the reason why he so passionately hated her. It was jealousy. Plain and simple jealousy. Although as seemingly void of complications as it was, she never knew that such hatred could run so deep.

"We should be more powerful than you…" He said to her darkly. "…and we are." He could have been lying to himself then, perhaps to reinstate his pride after that shocking revelation. Once again, he turned his back on her. "As much as I know you would hate to admit it, but, muggles are different from us you know. You should know that." Without another word or glance over his shoulder, he strode away from her and out of sight. As she stared at his retreating figure she didn't know what to feel. However, she knew she wasn't relieved to know the answer. She wasn't relieved at all. A very negative feeling rose and stirred in her stomach. It wasn't very unlike the emotion of sadness. Again, heat prickled in her eyes as hot, wet tears stung in them. She willed her tears, forced her tears to stay back and blinked them away but despite her combined efforts, it was no use. A stray tear rolled passed her cheek.

She need not contemplate the veracity of his horrid revelation. She could see it clearly in his eyes. She witnessed something that ran so deep to his very core. It had scared her, but the idea of such an unfathomable hatred saddened her even more. The hatred, the loathing was like DNA imprinted in his heredity, in his blood. _Degrading and manipulating a muggleborn person into the feeling of worthlessness must be some gratification of his brutal passions_, she thought bitterly. Never had she known that such a condemned hatred existed, all the while that deepest and purest loathing was burning alive deep inside heart of her fellow peer and hated enemy. He obviously had no fear in being upfront and expressing his feelings about her. She had just never taken the time to fully comprehend the meaning and depth concealed within his harsh words.

Draco had rushed out of there. At first his steps were quick and deliberate, but now they had gradually been slowed to the steady beat and rhythm of thought. He couldn't believe he had just told her. As truthful as they were, they were not his words. They would never be his words. Those words and those feelings, that anger was that of his father. His father taught it to him. And Draco was only to respond robotically, mimicking and reciting them just as he learned so. He had wounded her by telling his family's truth. But Hermione had to know the real truth: those were not his words.

He did not see any trace of her on the next day, or the day after that. Draco had wondered whether she had disappeared off the face of the earth. But he knew that at their next meeting, they would have to meet. Predicting what would happen at that meeting was beyond him.

Hermione spent the majority of the next two days in solitary confinement. If she wasn't in classes, she was in her dorm, if she wasn't in her dorm then she wasn't anywhere. She studied day and night, the boys and Ginny had excused her behaviour for simply 'being Hermione' however it was a mere device to occupy her mind with material other than her scattered thoughts. Concentrating on her silent pain rather than her studies were something she would never be prepared to do… they were the hardest two days of her life. In all her life at the school, never had the walk up to the Library been so difficult. If this were any other occasion, she'd bound up these steps eagerly awaiting the musty smell of old Parchment waft towards her nose, the subtle underlying sound of scratching quills and the calming tranquillity settling the air. Other than home, it was her most beloved atmosphere in the world. However, this time it was different. Slowly, one by one she climbed the steps, dread rising as if it were a hastily rising tide suffocating her. The lump in her throat slowly grew and even though stray students passed her, only she could hear the drumming of her heart and the hollow emptiness of her dreaded footsteps echoing before the Library doors.

Hermione arrived quietly, a shroud of melancholy and withdrawal hovered over her like a thick, black veil. Silently she sat and opened a book. She said nothing, no greeting, no quip, no salutation. It was only for Draco to be tentatively aware of this. He had sensed her disposition more than he had seen it. Stopping his reading, he looked up to her. Obviously, he knew that it concerned with the other night and what he had revealed to her. She felt his lingering gaze. Boldly, she faced him.

"Hello." She said weakly. Her greeting was almost as soft as a breath. It was left at that.

"Evening" he replied as if it were an ordinary unchanged night. He chanced a glance at her eyes. Flecks of hurt and pain. Unable to stand this saddening sight, he shifted his gaze to the floor.

As the night wore on her shroud of sadness refused to unveil. To Draco, it was driving him crazy. He felt as if he were literally trapped inside the same room with someone who had just attended a thousand funerals. But not only was she quiet and reproachful, she chose to ignore his existence entirely. Aside from her reluctant breath of 'hello' she was as silent as the grave. There was not an answer to his given questions and declined acquiescence to his requests. She acted as if he had never existed… and it was an incredibly difficult task to ignore Draco Malfoy. But quite on the contrary, it was a difficult task to ignore Hermione Granger also. That session had been one of the most frustrating and tedious two-hours of his life, second to History of Magic of course.

The candles burned down low, creating pools of wax around the table. Hermione quietly packed her things and stood. As she was about to leave, Draco stood also.

"Granger wait."

She turned forcefully on her heel and walked.

"Granger I said wait!" In an instant he was behind her, his firm pale hand gripped her shoulder. She whipped around.

"What the hell do you want?" She snapped.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, his grip on her shoulder tightened. _Like he had to ask…_

"Like you care." She scoffed.

"I don't. Now tell me, what the hell is wrong with you?" She didn't answer, instead she turned and took a step. Draco held her back. "Tell me." He commanded firmly.

"It doesn't matter." She said quietly. She made another attempt at walking away. Draco kept pulling her back.

"Yes. It does." He insisted.

"It doesn't matter!" She cried, raising her voice. As much as she tried to emancipate herself, his grip was too strong. He kept pulling her back.

"Yes it does dammit. Tell me!" He raised his voice to a level far higher and demanding than hers.

"No! What does it matter to you? Let go of me!" She took a step. He pulled her back.

"Just tell me!"

"No! Let. Me. GO!"

"Tell - !"

- SMACK!

In an instant she had whipped around and slapped him cleanly across the face. In a state of weak shock, he released her and stepped back, delicately fingering his reddening cheek. Shocked with her own actions, she cautiously reached up to touch his cheek in some form of lament or apology. But he jerked away from her touch. With her eyes tearing, she slowly took her hand back and held it close. Her lip trembled as he stared at her in shock.

She knew she was going to cry. She knew it…

She ran. Leaving everything behind she escaped. She just had to leave, she needed to, and she just couldn't face him anymore. It hurt too much to feel the way she did about him only to be loathed deeply in return. She just couldn't do it. Reaching the next corridor she rounded the corner and slowed to catch her breath. She listened to the soft sound of her footsteps echoing in the dark and quiet halls. Wait…no these footsteps were far too quick to be her own.

He had the nerve to follow her.

A streak of platinum blonde came to view in the moonlight and she immediately quickened her pace until she eventually ran desperately away from him. It did not take long until he was trailing her by mere metres. Running out of breath, she drew her wand and sharply turned to face him. He stopped abruptly.

"Why the hell are you following me?" She demanded, brandishing her wand dangerously.

"Granger…" He breathed weakly, trying to console her in some way. Her eyes glistened with tears as slowly they rolled silently down her cheeks. He took a step.

"Take another step and I swear by this wand I'll make a eunuch out of you." Shocked by her formidable threat he stood his ground. He knew that she was more than capable of it (although where she learned such a spell, he didn't know) and he certainly didn't want to be castrated by any wand of hers.

"I won't apologise… I won't apologise for the truth." He admitted finally.

"I know you won't." She replied raising her head as the tear streaking her cheek shone before it fell. She looked back down, however not lowering her wand. Feeling safe enough to risk his balls, he took a step forward. "I said don't come near Malfoy."

Draco stopped. There was a scratching sound…light and soft footsteps. Definitely not human. "Ssh…" He said softly.

"Don't _ssh _me!" Hermione snapped.

"Shut up Granger!" Draco hissed, stepping closer to her, listening hard for that sound. His father had trained him to be a Death Eater, he deprived him of his spoiled childhood for this. They were definitely footsteps and definitely not human. They were soft, animal like. It took Draco a split second to realise the only furry creature that prowled deviously through the halls at this time of night. He grabbed Hermione's hand and startlingly pulled her off to another corridor.

"Malfoy! Excuse me! Unhand me this instant!" Hermione vociferated loudly. Draco whipped around and increased pressure on her wrist, his heart drumming loudly in his chest.

"Granger, just shut up. Mrs Norris is coming. Now either come with me and hide or be found and stripped of your leadership." Draco hissed impatiently.

"What? I don't hear any -"

"I said keep your bleeding voice down!" Draco continued to drag her around random corridors.

"I can walk you know." She muttered. However, Draco ignored her. Her poked his head around another corridor. A faint glimmer of lamplight winked in the dark distance.

"Shit" He muttered and ran with quick speed past the corridor, evading the light. As he ran, he didn't quite realise that his hand was still clamped onto Hermione's with a vice-like grip. In his abrupt marathon, he yanked Hermione off her feet where she clumsily stumbled through the corridor. Her footsteps resonated off the walls. Hermione looked somewhere between guilty and shocked, while Draco looked mortified at the loud, "Who's there?" That came from an agitated Filch. Without hesitation, he ran, dragging Hermione along with him. It would only take a full time Hogwarts student to know the astonishing speed that Filch hobbled by.

"Malfoy, what are we going to do?" Asked Hermione desperately, watching the faint glimmer of light grow into dooming illustration of her end.

"Like I know!"

"Who's there!" Filch demanded brusquely into the distance. Hermione took a deep breath and grabbed Draco's hand. She pushed him into the next corridor.

"We just have to keep going!" She hissed. They turned a corner and found themselves almost face to face with Filch. He was hobbling at least ten metres into the distance. Draco grabbed Hermione and pulled the both of them back into the shadows. The dark corridors only draped part of the corners in complete shadow, leaving them only little room to conceal themselves in completely. He grabbed her from in front of him and pushed Hermione up against him, his breathing quickening, his heart-rate insane as sweat slowly crept through his pores. "I'm scared." Hermione whispered as Filch beckoned closer and closer, his lamp illuminating the corridor dangerously. It was as if they were fugitives.

"With your extreme saving-the-world misadventures with Potter, I'd rather think you'd be used to this by now." Draco whispered from behind in her ear, dreading and watching the ominous light draw near.

"Shut up." She whispered back. In response he clamped his hand over her mouth and pulled her back further into the shadows.

"For once, listen to your own advice." He breathed. Hermione's warmth breath warmed his hand as she unconsciously drew back closer into him. Filch was now merely feet away. They could hear his heavy footsteps, his quick and ragged breaths and even the creaking of the lamp as he swung it around hoping to catch the two.

"Come out, come out…wherever you are." Whispered Filch.

He stepped closer to where Draco and Hermione had hidden, extending his arm to allow the lamplight to illuminate almost everything. He took another step. Hermione's chest started to ache and her throat started to burn, until she realised, she had been holding her breath for so long. Filch was too close to let her breath escape now. Eternity had been contained in the agonizing second that Filch stood there suspiciously glancing at the shadows as if the devil himself were to jump out and yell April fool.

Filch dropped the lamplight and began hobbling down the corridor, apparently convinced that the wayward students had escaped him. When the winking light disappeared around the corridor Hermione relaxed and breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh thank god." She breathed, turning around and hugging Draco for support. Insane tension had seized up all her muscles. "My god I was so scared." She mumbled into his robes.

Draco could no longer stand it. While Hermione was breathing sighs of relief, her proximity was shoving Draco into madness. He shut his eyes in order to quell his temptation, and mentally scream in his silent torture. The last time she had been this close to him he was really tempted to… but there was no stopping him now. Forsaking everything he knew and chucking it out the window, he did the one thing he had been wanting to do all night: He kissed her.

Hermione had felt it before she even realised what was happening. The moment his lips crushed against hers, her inanimate shock had turned into an insurmountable hurricane of desire. It was a definable moment, one might figure it ought to be written in history. However in this sacrilegious harmonic moment, all else did not exist. And so in the heat of possessive passion he began to kiss her. It was in these slow caressing fashions that she experienced surges of pleasure, all emanate from where their lips were lustfully joined. In mindless lust, she kissed him return. Deprived of warmth, her hands ran blindly over his the smoothness of his chest, tingling from the very of the fabric. They found themselves around his neck pushing, urging him closer. Without a thought he responded.

Succumbing to this insatiable passion she gripped his silky hair without pause. In this one small kiss she was suddenly basking in his evanescent presence. She could feel his presence engulf her taunting her, tempting her to desire for more. Draco was no longer in control. She felt the moisture of his tongue graze across her lip asking for more. Shockingly, she opened to him allowing him to skilfully deepen the kiss heightening all pleasurable feeling as fiery monster roared in her chest.

Although her body was reacting to impulses on its own, a minuscule section of her mind still had at least some control of her body and feebly attempted to intervene.

But Draco knew his stuff. His hands snaked through her robe, like a predator eager for its prey. It snaked underneath her the fabric of her shirt towards the soft delicateness of her stomach and back. She shuddered beneath his touch.

_Stop… _Said a tiny voice in Hermione's mind. _You know this isn't right. _But his hands, his lips, he himself was entirely too intoxicating. The way he skilfully explored her cold skin, warming it with the simplest touch. She clung to him desperately, her hands fisting through his silken hair curling around his neck. She had experienced feelings she had never experienced before. She wanted to touch to taste to feel.

_STOP. _Her mind screamed. Her body had a mind of its own. _Stop before this leads to something you will regret! _The impact of that sentence was enough to regain Hermione from the endless abyss that was Draco. It took every fibre and every Hermione-ish bone in her body to reluctantly turn her head away. Shakily, she stepped back as everything evaporated in an instant.

Draco jumped back as he too realised what he had just done. He was mortified. Breathlessly he stood there staring at her looking appalled at his own actions and immediately Hermione suddenly felt cold. A refreshing zephyr greeted her as Draco brushed passed her and ran. She could have cried then as she was left lone in the darkness, but instead she waited a moment to be sure that Draco was truly gone.

As Draco made his way back to the dungeon a sudden thought occurred to him. This night was much fulfilling the definition of a word he had known as… tryst.

As Hermione remained motionless, she unconsciously licked her lips. His sweet taste remained. She was left with a slight feeling of repulsion but a part of her was feeling not a trace of regret, which was odd if you thought about it. He left her wanting more, which is just what she was doing. She wanted more and yet at the same time, she cursed herself for such a contumacious and heinous thought. She would continue denying that until the end of her days.

"I hate him." She said to herself, "And that's that." Hermione ran away from the scene, promising to herself that she would never again be involved in such a… such a … her mind instantaneously produced an increasingly fitting word: tryst.

- Haven't really proof read it… just so you know, don't really write smut-ish type scenes. But I will chuck one in whenever I feel like it. This chap, undeniably one of the shortest ones, only six pages but anyways, I hoped you enjoyed it! Yay they finally kissed! Review if you want, no pressure.


	11. Psychology and Christmas Plans

**A/n: **Been a laborious chapter, since I have not really experienced the situation myself but oh well, yeah. Anyways I'm not too happy about the part in the middle happened a bit too fast for me didn't have time to fix it, but anyway I hope you enjoy it. Oh and its my 14th birthday by the way, I had a pretty crap day and its well that time of – moving on, jeez this is sounding like a diary but perhaps a lil' Birthday prezzie could be a review? Hint hint. Enjoy! Hopefully…

**Chapter 11- Christmas Plans**

When Hermione arrived from her dorm that night she spontaneously combusted into a fit of tears. She didn't know why she was crying, she just, felt like it. Yes there was an unmasked tinge of sadness coalesced with confused anguish but apart from this, nothing else. Using her pillow, she dried her tears and made attempts to calm down. The explicit notion that she had just kissed Draco Malfoy had not sunk in yet. She didn't think that she'd able to ever believe it, or perhaps even forgive herself for being attracted to him in the first place. Where did their relationship stand now? Hermione hated being clueless, but especially, confused. Worst of all, she was lost inside both. She was one hundred percent certain that she would not be able to sleep that night. She felt as if she were a murderer. It was as if she had committed a highly illegal act. In addition to the fact that she _enjoyed_ the kiss upgraded her to a psychotic killer.

What was she to say to Harry and Ron?

"… Aw Draco yes it's bad news isn't it?" Whined an annoyed Pansy in the Slytherin common room laboriously filing her nails. "I had just received word from my mother saying we're spending Christmas with her apparently wealthy cousins in southern France, they own a chateau there apparently." Pansy examined the state of her nails, found an imperfection and started filing away again. "But don't you realise Draco? I won't be able to attend your Christmas Ball! And neither can Zabini, his mother is off in Bulgaria eloping _again _to another rich Wizard with no name and he'll be off there tagging along in their honeymoon I mean yuck!… So I won't be able to attend your Ball! You're going to be so alone…Draco? Draco? _Draco are you even listening?"_

Draco wasn't listening at all. He was too wrapped up in another vision he had experienced in addition to the damn good kiss he had just shared with the mudblood – no, Granger. What was he going to do about that? He had standards to uphold. He'd gone out with Slytherins and occasionally Ravenclaws, but Hufflepuffs were way below the belt. But Gryffindors? Completely out of the question. Pansy's situation with failure to attend his family's annual Christmas Ball was the least of his problems, in fact he found it a relief. However, he did have more pressing matters to think about, he was going to deal with this kiss. He was going to deal with his feelings also, for Draco Malfoy was always in complete control.

However in control Draco was or however psychotic Hermione was, they inevitably met the next night. Both tried to dream up of some way to avoid it. Hermione asking for more Head Girl duties and trying to hold a meeting then, failing due to short notice and Draco trying either to get in more Prefect duties or Quidditch Practices, both ideas failed. By habit, Draco arrived earlier than Hermione, Hermione only trailing behind him by a few minutes. Neither said anything as they sat down and began to read, Draco determinedly not looking at her and Hermione turning crimson every few seconds. They had survived in this choc thick atmosphere for quite some time. Hermione was even surprised that she could endure this much tension in the air for so long. So long didn't last long enough.

She placed her book carefully on the table and looked up. "So…" she spoke softly, wanting nothing more than to end this maddeningly uncomfortable silence.

"So…" He repeated.

They sat in silence and stared at one another.

"Look," he said quickly, leaning forward, "_It _did happen you know, you can't just pretend like the other night never existed."

She shot him a stern look. "Nothing happened and _it _definitely didn't happen." She refused to say what they did as if to do so were uttering words of sacrilege.

"Look that _kiss_ definitely did happen whether you wanted it to or not." There, he said it.

"Well it shouldn't have happened!" Said Hermione angrily, "It was a complete mistake!"

"Even if it shouldn't have happened, that's not the point, the point is, is that we're going to have to face this problem." Said Draco growing frustrated with her.

"It wouldn't be a problem if we just say nothing happened." Argued Hermione seriously.

"So you're just going to pretend that nothing ever happened and you're going to continue on living normally just like that!" Asked Draco clicking his fingers, his temper rising quickly. They were bickering ridiculously like an old married couple.

"Yes." She insisted nonchalantly.

"Fine, then look me in the eye and tell me that you didn't enjoy kissing me, look me in the eye and tell me that kiss meant nothing to you." Draco's tone had grown to be subdued and dead serious. She closed her eyes, turned, and looked straight at him. Begging herself not to falter.

"I…" she faltered and failed, "I – look you cocky bastard, if this is your way of enhancing your ego then -"

"No dammit _no_! This is my way of finding out what they hell is going on between us." His voice rose once more as he started to look more and more flustered.

"Well -" She took a deep breath. "I -"

"You can't say it can you? Because you know it would be a lie. You wanted that kiss didn't you? Admit it!" He spoke forcefully.

"No! I didn't I -" She cried, looking panicky as she covered her face with her hands and shook her head. He took her hands away from her face and looked into her eyes. She was already close to tears. Draco was desperate for answers; he needed to know the truth. He craved the truth. If this were a one sided relationship then fine he would let it be, but if she felt something too… they needed to deal with this and quickly.

Hermione tore her gaze away and walked to the nearest shelf with her back to him. This couldn't be happening, she couldn't do this. Not now. Not ever. In moments she felt his presence behind her, taking a deep breath she turned around. His sharp gray eyes were staring straight at her, piercing through her shattered cover. He placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Tell me the truth."

His voice was demanding, yet even. She looked away. "No… I didn't want – it didn't mean -"

"The truth." He repeated firmly and more slowly. Gently with his index finger and his thumb her forced her chin up, obliging her to look at him. Merlin, she was on the verge of tears.

"Alright! All right! Yes okay? Yes!" She cried falling into hysterics. "Yes I enjoyed the kiss, yes it meant something to me and yes I wanted it!" She admitted vehemently. She was breathing heavily, blinking the tears back and suddenly she became collected and serious. "But the bottom line is, that kiss should never have happened. Bottom line, that kiss will never happen again."

"How do you know that? How do you know that something like the other night won't happen again?" He asked in all honesty. "I know the truth Granger, you felt something and I felt something too. Denying that fact doesn't alter anything."

"I can live without kissing you Malfoy." She said darkly.

"Oh yeah? How sure are you about that?"

"Oh, well now you're just being an arrogant ass! Don't pretend like you know me." She yelled.

"Well perhaps I am but at least I'm willing to face this." He said, taking a step towards her.

She scoffed. "Don't call me a coward." She warned through her teeth. "I don't want to kiss you again Malfoy." _Liar_ "And as of now, that kiss has meant nothing to me." She told him defiantly although hot, angry tears stung in her eyes.

"Oh yeah? Prove it." He said eyeing her with suspicion, contemplating whether he should do what he was about to do.

"You know I can't do that." She blinked back the ominous tears.

"Yes you can." All right, he decided he was going to do it.

"How?"

"With this - " And with the known seeker-like speed, he stepped up to her, cupped her cheeks in his hands and kissed her. And though Draco knew this was the only way to get the truth out of her, this was a sin. But he gripped her close in delicious passion. If he didn't control himself, he wasn't going to stop. _Oh god help me…_she thought desperately as she was helpless only to kiss him in return. The tears she was restraining flowed with ease down her reddening complexion and spilled onto Draco's hands. Her hands slid upwards to where his gently touched her cheeks. It was at this when Draco mercilessly tore his lips away, completely out of breath. "There, now that is the truth."

"I hate you." She spat, shying away defensively, roughly wiping away the tears. "That was unfair!" Unwanted tears prickled in her eyes again. "Unfair! I was – I was completely unprepared."

"Unprepared to what? Lie to me some more?"

Without even meaning to and even more so out of reflex, she slapped him. Slowly he turned to face her, wiping the small amount of blood away from his mouth with his thumb. He didn't look furious nor angry, just tired. "Look you're being ridiculous! Unless you want to turn this night into a re-enactment of the other night, you better stop being so juvenile!"

"Juvneile!" She repeated raising her hand to slap him again. He caught it.

"Ahaha! Caught you."

"You're accusing me of re-enacting the other night! Excuse me! You kissed me first!" She yelled haughtily, "So _you _better stop."

"Stop trying to choose the easy way out." He told her timidly, ignoring her outbursts.

"Easy way!" She cried turning to face him. "What easy way? Regardless of what we do, that kiss still means something to the both of us and I just can't wish my feelings away."

He took a step towards her and took her face in his hands; there he wiped her tears away with his thumb. "Instead you choose to ignore them."

"What do you want me to do? Embrace them? You know we can't do that."

"I know, so we work through them." He replied, advancing slowly. "It's the only logical option we can choose. It's the _only _option we can choose. I want to make sure these 'feelings' whatever they are, are gone."

"Or we could just pretend like none of this ever happened. You won't do anything and I won't do anything. I will stay in one piece." She exhaled slowly. Hopefully he would buy it this time.

"_Why are women so bloody stubborn!_" Draco exasperated, falling haphazardly into his chair. He let out a stressed sigh and closed his eyes. "You Granger will bring the death of me. What can I do to convince to you that your method is stupid?"

She glared at him for a full moment before pressing on. "So we have two logical options: Ignoring the situation – _it IS a logical response Malfoy, every hear of ignorance is bliss?_"(Ever hear of knowledge is power? Was his reply) "_ - _and working through our feelings." Hermione continued. "Since we can decide to do neither I propose we deal with this in a democratic fashion, we try each in succession and which ever works best we'll go for."

"Finally! The first feasible statement that has exited your mouth this evening! I'll agree to this 'democratic proposal' only if we agree to attempt your ridiculous method first. I want to get you're failure of plan over and done with you see, and start with my superior plan of working through our feelings." Said Draco confidently. The real egotistic Draco had returned from vacation.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "For goodness sake you sound like a shrink. Like you, the cold heartless bastard you are would venture anywhere near emotional vulnerability."

"I'll work out my feelings on my own and you can do whatever you want with yours. And I'll take that as a compliment thank you very much, it implies the way in which you absolutely marvel at my talents in psychiatry." He said smugly, leaning back on his chair and placing his hands behind his head.

"No, I just marvel in which the way you can walk. The size of your head must surely outweigh the rest of your body." Said Hermione airily plonking herself in her seat and re-opening _The Dark Arts, Clandestine Rituals and Prophecies. _"Any new visions yet?"

"You are fascinated with that book." Said Draco looking astounded. "I have no idea how many times I've seen you with it. It's amazing. Either it's incomprehensibly fascinating or you just care about me much."

"Oh don't get your hopes up." She muttered scathingly. "Any new visions yet?" She repeated. The previous argument was completely forgotten.

"No, not really. But they are getting clearer. I can now make out the markings on the wall ruins, in that weird jungle." Said Draco flippantly as he flipped a page. In all truth, that's all his visions had displayed, he always stood in the exact same place surveying his surroundings. True, everything had elucidated, he could now hear the thick blanket of bird's cries, and he could feel the damp almost suffocating humidity in the air and the soft moist mush of mud beneath his feet. But most of all, he could now read the markings on the ruins beside him. At first he thought it was senseless chicken scratch, but recently they had come to illustrate some coherent meaning.

"Oh jeez it's getting cold." Said Hermione as she breathed into her hands and rubbed them together. She reached for her wand to perform a heating spell, but apparently Draco had beaten her to it. A breeze of warm air washed over her and settled around her, very cozy. She looked up to him.

"It was cold, and you were distracting me. Besides, it is mid November you know." He muttered flippantly. "Granger, just one question, if we are treating this situation as if nothing happened, does this mean I should be throwing some scathing insult about your heritage right about now?"

"I…um" Hermione looked troubled. "Right, probably."

"Whatever you say, mudblood." He answered. She raised an eyebrow.

"Ferret."

"Filth."

"Bitch!"

Draco scoffed as he lifted an eyebrow. How dare _she _call _him _a bitch! "Oh you just crossed the line, Granger, you just crossed the line."

"And I'm sure as hell glad that I did." She retorted, smiling.

"How dare you call me a bitch!" Said Draco His voiced raised on the prelude of yelling.

"How dare you call me filth."? Hermione replied. "Now you're just getting hurtful."

"Hypocrite! This was your idea!" Yelled, Draco looking outraged. And yet although, Malfoy's weren't supposed to hold temper tantrums, they were calm, collected and held all their emotions inside. "Now that's injustice, you're accusing me of being harsh when this was entirely _your _idea."

"Injustice? I tell you what's unjust: You kissing me when I wasn't even -"

"Oh don't give me that bullshit, you know you enjoyed it" Drawled Draco with an exaggerated eye roll. Hermione sighed and rubbed her temples.

"Okay, despite what you think, can we just get over the insult thing now. Okay new ground rule: no insults." She sighed once more hoping he would comply.

"Fine." He said brusquely, folding his arms in a childish manner – a manner which said, _'you're not my friend anymore' _

"Good." She remarked in a snappish motherly fashion in accountancy to his childish behaviour. They both left the Library that night in air of high spirits (Hermione mostly, Draco grumbling at certain intervals that it was a stupid idea and they'd end up kissing each other soon enough – although he hated to admit he _wanted_ it to happen)

For the week that proceeded they continued to carry out Hermione's plan almost without difficulty. Although there had been moments where she began to doubt her ability resist the charms of Malfoy. They ploughed on regardless of their feelings, Draco only doing so out of his underlying respect for her.

One such night had been an occasion where Draco had requested of her something, she thought she'd never hear. It been a usual night for Hermione, however Draco was under constant deliberation of whether he was losing his sanity or not, the argument that he was on the path to serious debilitating dementia had been succeeding in the inner-conflict.

His father had recently owled him, their upcoming annual Christmas Ball drew near, and by tradition it was duty for him to enter with a consort (in his case, a pureblood or high society date). Usually he entered the Ball with Pansy clinging to his arm, smirking at them all and smiling condescendingly as if she owned the place, only it had been Draco and his family who literally owned the riches, not her (obviously). But upon remembering the long, detailed and ridiculous story as to why the said clingy girl was unable to attend, it was up to Draco to again seek a suitable companion.

He had thought of many other Hogwarts girls, from Slytherin and Ravenclaw respectively, to request their presence at the Ball. He even lined them up in his head from the most presentable (or as he called it, 'from the hottest to the… looks-impaired'). He had also laid out a category of who had the most congeniality or who was most photogenic (these Balls did make the Prophet you know) down to whose family was the most pureblood prejudiced. The last category was included to which his parents would treat fairly because of where her family's loyalties lay. As he encountered the blue and green robed girls in the halls, he speculated which should be the lucky maiden, that was until he encountered Millicent Bulstrode, a Pig-like masculine bear of a girl hardly photogenic and would look like an extremely deranged and oversized pug in a gown. His features twisted tremendously just visualizing about the mental picture of her guffawing like Crabbe or Goyle, clinging to his arm as the Prophet's photographer took a blinding shot for the paper.

But regardless of how many times he had speculated, assessed, checked out or placed countless girls into categories, he always, _always _found himself comparing all of them to just one: Hermione Granger. She was the muggleborn, the Gryffindor, the exact of epitome of whom he specifically should _NOT _take. And yet he constantly compared every girl to her. The outpost of morality and dignity. He compared these high society girls to _her. _It was as he did when he casually strutted around the halls, eyeing some few up and comparing their hotness levels to this immaculate image of the perfect woman he envisioned. In truth, when considering girls to accompany to the Ball, the face that had immediately popped into his head like a spark was none other than Granger's. He laughed out loud, almost hysterically when it happened, _oh the sheer tantalizing irony of it all. _Granger's was the face that primordially surfaced in his mind, as evanescent as the thought was as he speculated amongst other girls, he knew who and _what _it would come down to regardless of the result. He would end up finding Granger the only girl suitable for the job (aside from the last part where she was a mudblood, if she'd accept his rather awkward invitation they'd have to work on that.)

So here he was, a few short weeks before the Ball about to ask her a 'favour' more like a 'privilege' to which, if he knew her well enough, she'd be disinclined and in the end decline his request. Only Hermione, in all her innocent frivolity had absolutely no idea of it all. The candles had been burning until their were halfway pools of cooled wax, the night not particularly eventful droned on, not that either of them complained. Draco's mind was made up: he was insane and should be committed immediately.

"What are your Christmas plans?" Asked Draco quickly and unnecessarily loudly out of random. He berated himself at this point to remain in control, he was Draco Malfoy, he was always in control. "I meant to say, do you have anything planned for Christmas?" He asked lowering his voice casually.

She looked at him, alarmed. "Other than that being a random question, why do you ask?"

He shrugged innocently, all a part of his play of course, and said. "The need for conversation"

Her eyebrows furrowed for a moment before she answered. "I'm not quite sure really, with all the craziness, I haven't thought about it. I think amongst Head Girls duties and Homework I had forgotten festivity. Perhaps the usual, spend it with my family and then pop over to Grimmaul – I mean Ron's place for the remainder of Christmas."

He raised an eyebrow…_so she was free. _He almost wished she wasn't to save him from doing this but since she was available, he ought to just ask her already. "Well, good for you."

"What are you doing for Christmas? Not staying here, surely." She inquired, peeking from the top of her book.

He smirked. "Granger, the only Christmas I have spent in this school is in fourth year, now I needed to be there for the Triwizard Tournament, not to mention the Yule Ball. That's a once in a lifetime opportunity and besides…" He smiled reminiscently. "…Damn those Beauxbatons girls were _hot…_especially their champion Delacour…too bad she's hooked up with a Weasley _of all people_…"

Hermione rolled her eyes, she wasn't expecting an earful of his hormonal or masculine surveys of the other contestants. But not to be hypocritical, as she did attend the Ball with the Durmstrang Champion Viktor Krum.

"You should remember Granger, as I recall correctly you did have a certain little interlude with Krum from Durmstrang." Said Draco, omitting the occasion where she rendered him speechless at the Ball with her appearance. Hermione's cheeks flushed a little pink. "… I was going to attend Durmstrang you know, fine school. Unfortunately mother wasn't too keen on 'shipping me off to Bulgaria' as she put it." He ended his voiced reminiscence at that point and finally reached the climax of the evening. "But in truth Granger, my family plays host to an annual Ball on Christmas Eve."

Hermione looked up. "Wow… how Malfoy-like of you."

"And every year I must attend as with an escort. Usually I come along with Pansy but -" Why was this so difficult to say?

Hermione let out a low whistle. "Bet Parkinson loved that."

"However this year, she's by some unimaginable reason unable to attend so I was wondering…if… youwouldliketotakeherplace." He mumbled quickly.

"Pardon? Didn't catch that sorry?"

Draco inwardly took a breath and calmed. "Granger I am asking you if you would like to attend the Ball with me." He may have been a nervous crumbling wreck inside, but on the surface he was as suave and calm as he needed to be. "Just as an escort of course… nothing more."

She blinked and stared at him for full ten seconds – before she started laughing. "You're joking right? Yeah like I'd be even allowed to lay my _filthy _eyes on the hallowed edifice you call a home. Nice one Malfoy, good way to bring in the Christmas cheer." But as she lay eyes upon his sangfroid expression, she knew immediately that he was not joking. "You're serious?"

"Do you accept or not?" He asked in an almost demanding tone. "It is a rare opportunity Granger."

She blinked again. "But why _me? _Of all people me, the mudblood, besides your father already knows what I look like, he's probably got a picture of me somewhere in your dungeons with blood smeared all over it as he mutters voodoo spells each night, praying for my death."

"Don't worry it's a Masquerade Ball." He said rolling his eyes. "Although the thought that my father would result to the crudeness of voodoo to plot the genocide of the world's muggleborns is highly unlikely."

"I don't think a piece of decorated plastic that conceals half my face is enough to fool a Death Eater Malfoy…" Said Hermione concernedly. "It would be nice to attend but I don't know, my family is really big on the concept of family unity at Christmas and I always spend the remainder of the holidays with the boys… I don't know." She added looking doubtful. "I'm really…"

"Don't apologise, I didn't expect you to accept anyway." Said Draco looking unfazed. He had to admit to himself though; his spirits had lowered quite a bit. He had to now revert back to the list, ah the list that Millicent Bulstrode was definitely the last on.

Hermione looked sincerely sorry, she resolved to find a way steal even just a few hours on Christmas Eve to attend it with him, she could disguise herself somehow and hopefully evade his parents for long enough to enjoy the night. The night returned to its usual norm. Hermione was trying to think up methods to sneak out of the house (would she ever?) or be let off on Eve and Draco was running the list through his mind, at certain intervals muttering names of possible dates. At times her eyes flickered to him as his eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. She resisted the urge to grab him then and either kiss or hug him. She was sanguine to the thought, but she knew she couldn't betray her method.

Fourth year…would she ever feel as carefree as she was at the Ball again? This could probably be her only opportunity, and from Harry and Ron's begrudging attitude towards Balls and as Parvati and Padma described, their 'appalling' treatment to their dates, Hermione knew they weren't too keen on attending any soon.

Eventually the night had drawn to a close. Draco was just about ready to leave, with a few names already made up in his head. Before his departure, Hermione grabbed his robe.

"Malfoy?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"Thank you for inviting me and well…not referring to me as a last resort really. Thanks for noticing I was a girl." Said Hermione as she remembered the fourth year blunder with Harry and Ron, only realising after about three weeks that she was in fact female. "I would really love to attend… well um I'll try to see if I can…"

"Forget it Granger, who knows anyway? It's just a ball, don't need to be sympathetic about it." He shook his head. "Gryffindors…" He muttered to hide away his rising disappointment in the matter. She nodded and turned to leave.

"I really am sorry."

"Goodnight Granger." Said Draco brusquely, brushing passed her and into the night.

When she returned to the Gryffindor Tower that night she found Harry and Ron engrossed in a violent game of Wizard's Chess. "What is wrong with the both of you?" Berated Hermione almost outraged. She dropped her satchel and approached them. "You should be asleep or at the very least studying, we have a Potions Exam tomorrow and you're not doing the slightest bit to study for it! Harry, Ron, are you listening?"

"Yes." Answered Ron. "And we have studied, we're already finished."

"Then keep revising." Said Hermione succinctly. "You do want to pass don't you?"

"Don't get your knickers in a knot Hermione. We're fine – oh knight to H3." Ron exasperated. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Don't come complaining to me in the morning." She said as she picked up her satchel and made her way up the stairs, she suddenly stopped and turned around. "Wait, Harry, Ron?"

They mumbled in reply.

"What are we doing for Christmas?" She asked.

"Huh?" Asked Harry. "The Headquarters I suppose," Said Harry with a reserved expression. It was his place now and it was the place where Sirius had once lived, the memory of their last Christmas together had been a merry one full of joy, full of Sirius singing random carols at the top of his lungs in complete merriment.

"Mum said something about that." Said Ron, "Either in the Headquarters or the Burrow I think, most likely the burrow. Fleur isn't very fond of dark places."

"Right," nodded Hermione as she trundled back up the stairs. "The usual." Now all she had to do was owl her parents and find out what was going on with them. She owled them the next day, she felt that Malfoy needed an answer as soon as possible. His eyes flickered to her as they passed each other briefly in the halls, she would often hold a guilty silence to that.

Her parents' reply came two days later. Cousins were arriving from all parts of the country this Christmas, huge family event this one and they sounded excited. Hermione's heart fell at once. She was extremely excited to once again see her cousins once again, especially ones she hasn't seen in years but that would mean she would have to refuse a once in a lifetime opportunity.

She didn't want to refuse Draco, because… in truth, it would be nice to spend even just a few hours of Christmas with him, even though she was _supposed _to hate him. Hermione read further down the letter and discovered her close cousin Annaliese would be also arriving from Wales. A plan began to formulate in her mind. Annaliese, her boy-crazy, mischievous and expert cousin when it comes to secret visits to her boyfriend's place in the middle of the night… perhaps she could be of some help. If Hermione could somehow convince her that she needed to spend Christmas with a special someone…

She couldn't wait to tell Malfoy, she was so impatient in fact that she grabbed him after dinner one night and pulled him into an empty classroom.

"Ah what the hell? Jesus Granger you need to stop doing that." He complained darkly, readjusting his robes.

"I just want to tell you that I probably only have a few hours two…maybe four at most to attend your Ball." She said quickly, muttering a spell to make sure the door was locked.

"Are you telling me that you're accepting my invitation?" He asked incredulously.

"Well, yes. But I think, no promises, I can only steal a few hours, it's a Cinderella type of thing." She whispered.

"Cinderella?" He asked.

She shook her head and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. _This is a pureblood I'm talking to. _She reminded herself. "Forget it, just, yeah I can come."

"Well seeing as you can come, we seriously need to get to work." Said Draco seriously, eyeing her up and down.

"What do you mean _seriously get to work?_" She asked following his gaze down her body.

"I mean you have to a long way to go if you want pass yourself in my society, you have to talk like a pureblood, look an aristocrat and oh yeah… you have to learn the dance." Said Draco thoughtfully.

"Dance? What dance?"

Draco sighed, "Or we could just sit here and repeat everything I say only in question form." He grabbed her shoulders. "Listen Granger, it's an entirely different world contained in the one room. I've had the privilege of learning of it from birth, you are required to learn about this world, _my world_ in just under four weeks and put up a convincing act. If any member of my family finds out who you are, you and I are dead…literally."

… Now how about that present as a review? Ok yes I know cliché, masquerade, Cinderella thingy but at least they know each other, I was caught up watching Disney movies and reading corny stuff recently so this whole wave of cliché – ness overwhelmed me, but I'll try to stay as far away from cliché as I can, but really I haven't written a 'cliché – ish' scene in a while… lol it could be fun! Until next time… Deeh ;)


	12. Frivolity and the Tutorial Begins!

**I'M SORRY! SORRY! **I know... I know... I'm so pitifully pathetic. This chapter had caught me in the middle of my half-yearly exams (which I am sure I failed everything...:( urgh damn) Half of this chapter is just frivolous stuff, simply to differenciate my stories from other but also to emphasize the attraction between the two... and besides I'm rebelling against the GoF movie! I mean its cool and all but Herms dress is supposed to be BLUE! So I wanted her to wear something blue... (don't worry, you'll get what I mean later once the chapter is read). Oh and to the readers who reviewed! THANK YOU. So much. But especially **sweet-witch **I think it was you who constantlydemanded that I update. LoL thanks for that I needed that stern push to cut time out of my studying and actually finish the chapter, so thanks :D... ohcrap myComputers Teacher is here ( skool at da moment)... ok he just caught me... g2g ENJOY! hopefully. I'll update quicker next time.

**Chapter 12 – Frivolity and the tutorial begins!**

As the season of winter settled in, Hogwarts students skipped merrily towards the nearby town of Hogsmeade, in fact they did more than skip towards the small town, for it was the last Hogsmeade trip before the Christmas Holidays and there were presents that needed to be bought. The three inseparable friends Harry, Ron and Hermione sat in a cramped and buzzing Three Broomsticks bar warming up as they sat around a small table sipping their Butterbeer.

"I can't wait to start my Christmas shopping." Smiled Hermione brightly as she sipped a coffee fervently, savouring its warmth. "Where are we off to next?"

"Honeydukes or Zonkos?" Suggested Harry. "I feel like a cockroach cluster… for a strange reason." He turned to Ginny as she walked through the door and waved. She waved back with a smile and sat to the other side of the bar with Luna and other fifth year friends. Harry had assumed she would join them at their table but the bar had been rowdy and crowded that day due to the number of students. "What about you Ron?"

Hermione elbowed Ron forcefully. "What are you looking at?" Asked Hermione suspiciously. "More likely _who _are you looking at?" Ron's dreamy gaze left the bar and tuned into the conversation.

"What? – Oh nothing, No one." Said Ron resurfacing from his dreamy fazes. "What were you saying Harry?"

Hermione looked sceptical. "And I suppose this alleged 'no one' is currently serving drinks at the bar. Honestly Ron, just because Lavender rejected you," She paused and reworded as to not offend him, " - I mean because she declined your rather, eccentric invitation – it doesn't mean that you have to jump back onto your old crushes with Madame Rosmerta." She rolled her eyes as she realised Ron still nursed a 'soft spot' for the barmaid.

Ron looked resentful. "I don't see you with any blokes." He muttered. However, Malfoy's smirking expression immediately appeared into her head and she fought down the urge to blush.

"Well just because I'm a teenager, it doesn't mean I have to conform to the tradition of pouncing myself on the nearest moving male organism and calling them a boyfriend." Hermione retorted promptly. "I'm perfectly fine thank you very much." She said proudly as she (with quite some difficulty) forced the image of Malfoy out of her mind.

Without warning, a group of drunken men knocked quite violently into their small table, spilling drinks and causing Hermione - who was in mid sip - to spill her coffee… all over herself.

"Bloody Hell!" Cried Ron shoving the two men away in obvious annoyance. "Get back to your own bloody table, you drunkards."

"Hey! Get off." Cried Harry in agitation as he joined Ron in forcing the two men back to the other side of the bar. As they returned, Harry just noticed the rather large dark brown stain tainting and soaking a enormous stain into Hermione's white blouse. "Oh…"

Hermione glowered at the stain with ultimate disdain and made attempts to soak up the coffee with a tissue. "Oh damn." She cursed darkly, "And the coffee was black too."

"Er um, Hermione is there anything that we can do?" Asked Harry, Ron appeared beside him eyes glazed with silent laughter. Her head snapped to him.

"You had better not laugh Ronald." Warned Hermione in the process of cleaning the stain. "Oh where is my wand? Didn't I bring it with me? … Oh where the bloody hell is it? If I had my wand I could remove this stain in a second." She muttered briefly. "Ronald hand me your wand," She commanded sharply as she rummaged through the pockets of her jeans and suede jacket, how could she have forgotten her wand?

"Sorry Hermione but I didn't bring mine either, I thought we just be shopping so I thought I wouldn't need it." Said Ron guiltily. Harry checked his pockets.

"I'm sure to have brought it with me…I think I left it in the dorm after the Potions Exam last night…" Said Harry in the middle of a once over in his pockets.

Hermione shook her head. "Now really…Reliability…"

"This is perfect!" Cried Ginny who happened to appear as if she apparated to Harry's side from thin air.

"What's perfect?" The other three asked in unison.

"I can buy you another blouse for Christmas, I was in a mull over what to give you, but since this happened I guess I can spare a few galleons to do you a favour." Said Ginny looking relieved. "I'm not usually into fashion and the such, but you could use a few clothing items…" Ginny surveyed Hermione's casual yet plain appearance in concern.

"Or you could do me the favour of allowing me to borrow your wand, so I can just siphon this coffee off." Said Hermione serenely, holding out a hand.

"Yes, yes okay, here's my wand, but our purpose here is to shop for presents you know, and Hermione you're coming with me." Said Ginny tersely handing over her wand.

"_Tergeo_" Said Hermione as she began to siphon off coffee and slowly the stain magically disappeared before their eyes as if someone had been sucked out of the fabric. "Honestly Ginny it's not necessary, I'd rather a new quill or a book… I don't need clothes…it's not me."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Do you think _I'd_ spend my entire day inside a store trying on robes?" She asked giving a mirthless laugh. "I'd rather play Quidditch, you know me, I'm not like that but honestly Hermione, when was the last time you have done something so _ridiculously girly_ that it's _actually_ _considered to be fun?_" Asked Ginny knowingly.

Ron lifted his eyebrows. "…Well Hermione, she's got a point you know."

"You're agreeing with her? But, but you're a boy! You're supposed to be opposing the prospect of stereotypical feminism! You're _supposed_ to insist that we go to the Quidditch supply store or Zonkos or, or something!" Argued Hermione, it was not that she opposed feminism; she thought women deserved equal rights as much as the next ambitious egalitarian, but it was unlike Ron to be agreeing to something of this context.

"We are." Said Ron nodding scintillatingly, "But just Harry and I, we know how much you find those places a bore."

"Harry?" Hermione rounded to him, her eyes beckoning for support.

"Just go and have fun Hermione, we'll see you when we get back." Said Harry genially. "You need it, you've had at least three months couped up in the Library every second night with Malfoy of all people."

She was about to argue that the experience with Malfoy wasn't _that bad_ but she shut her mouth and walked away begrudgingly as Ginny tugged on her arm, almost practically dragging her to the exit. Hermione looked longingly back to their table as a recruit would to his home as if she were conscripted to war. They stepped outside; a cool breeze blew nippily against their faces as the sun peeked from behind a cloud.

"Wow." Said Ginny, "It sure has gotten warmer since we entered the Three Broomsticks." And it had, it was an unusually warm day for that time of the season, the sun had even chosen to venture from the darkness of the clouds. Grabbing Hermione's hand, Ginny lead Hermione to the nearest female clothing store. Hermione took one look at the clothes displayed in the window and whipped right around.

"No! No-ho-ho No! Nooo way. I am _not_ shopping for skirts like _that _to wear. I think they've got the date of their shipments wrong. We're in the second half of November not the middle of July! I can't believe they make dresses that short…" Said Hermione as she strode away. Ginny grabbed the sleeve of her coat and dragged her back to the window.

"Nope Hermione, you sound like my mother, _you are coming in with me_ – just give it a chance, you might actually find something _remotely_ _decent_. You are coming or I will jinx you." Warned Ginny with a maniacal glint glistening in her eyes.

Hermione folded her arms. "You can try."

"Oh yes I can, I have a wand and you don't." Said Ginny smartly. Hermione let her arms fall as she deflated, realising how Ginny was completely right.

"You got me there. But I am not going in." She stated defiantly.

"Oh yes you are!" Cried Ginny as with all her might, she dragged a loud and angry raving Hermione into the store…

Over an hour later, they exited. With past and intense deliberation, out stepped a girl in a provocative outfit, looking more disgruntled and irked than pleased… Hermione.

"I am not forgiving you for this Ginny. I will never forgive you for this. This is unfair. This is coercion. This is mean. I will never forgive you for making me wear this" Muttered Hermione vehemently through her heavily gritted teeth, looking positively livid.

Despite her continuing threats, Ginny looked unfazed. "I know you will Hermione, you'll forgive me, because you know you look good. I'm just enhancing the assets of the God given beauty you harbour, that you are still oblivious to." She skipped a little ahead of Hermione and shoved a few shopping bags into her hands. "These are yours, here's a few more blouses, etcetera."

"Ginny you know I am not going to wear these. They'd probably be stashed somewhere at the back of my wardrobe collecting dust…How did you get the money to afford all this anyway?" Said Hermione timidly, as to not offend her best friend about her family's financial dilemmas.

"Dad got a promotion at work remember? So he earns a lot more now and now I have more to spend on those I care about." Said Ginny happily. "Oh and I'm sure you'll wear them sooner or later. I know that you know you like them, or else I never would have bought them."

Hermione looked down at herself. True the dress was pretty but she could NEVER imagine herself even considering wearing something of this flirty audacious nature. She envisioned these types of dresses on pretty girls, tall girls with long blonde hair and blue eyes that were always popular - surely not _her_ the studious, bushy-haired brunette. It was a very form-fitting dress, a pale shade of blue, and a tinge lighter than the shade of the sky. The bottom just finished above her knees and the skirt had the uneven sort of jagged flirty design, 'hanky' she thought they called it. The bodice was quite simple but it exposed almost all of her shoulders, just two blue spaghetti straps reaching up and crossing at her back. There was a touch of a few rhinestones here and there to give it a subtle dazzling look that Hermione liked, but still she felt uncomfortable. What was the point in exposing so much skin anyway?

"Ginny… I feel so… exposed" Said Hermione worriedly, "I look dressed up as if I'm going to some sort of nightclub for my eighteenth birthday, not shopping around Hogsmeade with the school just around the way."

"_Get a grip_ Hermione!" Exasperated Ginny, "I'm the one that should be worried, walking here next to a little slice like you, especially in that dress."

"Huh? But I don't want to be a '_little slice'_ I'm happy with the way I dress, at least with that I don't feel like I'm wearing something close to lingerie… and these shoes, I rarely wear anything that has a heel higher than an inch…" Mumbled Hermione examining herself as she would examine a diseased lab rat.

For the umpteenth time, Ginny rolled her eyes. "You look great Hermione. And honestly you don't look as bad as you're making it out to be. You're not _that _exposed. So your shoulders show, at least I didn't get you a dress without straps, or any strappy heels. I want my friends to look great and pretty, not Parisian prostitutes."

Hermione fretted for a moment or two. Deciding, Ginny was only trying to look out for her, she sighed. "…Fine, I accept your gift. I guess I could try and see this from your point of view. But really the bottom is a bit too short; can't we alter this a little lower? Besides it's going to get cold soon."

"Jeez… you will always be Hermione." Sighed Ginny. The two girls walked down the street and into the Quidditch supply store, which was unfortunately packed suffocatingly with boys from all years in Hogwarts. Hermione hung her head and begged desperately to Ginny for her coat.

"Please Ginny." Hermione demanded sternly. "They're all staring at me, I don't like all these perverted teenage boys 'enjoying the view', especially as I am their Head Girl!" Hermione tugged at her coat that was obstinately secured in Ginny's arms. "Ginny! This is no way for me to exercise leading by example! I shouldn't be looking like this! I'm their Head Girl!"

"Enjoy it while you can Herms, I get it a few times too." Said Ginny, smiling evilly. She grinned at them all.

"I didn't come here or buy that dress to flaunt and live the life of Pansy Parkinson! _Now hand me my coat!_" Hermione demanded using a tone that would make most shrink away from and run out of sight.

"Okay, obviously Harry and Ron aren't here so let's leave." Ginny pushed her way through the greedy eyes, towards the door and shoved it open.

"Watch it Weasley!" Barked an outraged voice from the other side. Malfoy. Ginny stepped out angrily and Hermione was eager to follow suit. There was only one thing that could redeem Ginny from forcing Hermione to wear that dress at that moment: The look on Malfoy's face when he saw her. It was something close to shock and amusement...and perhaps even _liking._ Hermione's cheeks glowed an angry crimson as she gave him a quick glance and made her way to the door. In the brief moment that they passed each other, Malfoy whispered:

"Room of Requirement, later."

She gave a quick nod and almost smiled as she left. But little did she notice, Malfoy poking his head out of the door and eyeing her behind as she walked away in that short little blue dress.

"Malfoy's such a git." Muttered Ginny as Hermione joined her.

"Can I have my coat back now?" Asked Hermione.

"Oh yeah sure." Ginny handed to her and smiled. "Ooh a few whistles and lustful stares have gotten our Hermione even redder than a tomato."

"Shut up." Said Hermione, eagerly putting her coat back on. "_Now_ I feel comfortable. C'mon I think the boys are in Honeydukes."

They entered the surprisingly warm store and pushed through the barrage of students finally making their way towards the back. There they found Harry and Ron around a rather large and extravagantly coloured display of chocolate.

"No, I don't reckon Hermione will like those…" Fretted Harry as he examined a bag of sweets labelled: _Tooth Blackening Fudge – Be disguised as a petty toothless thief in an instant!_ "I don't think Ginny will like them either."

"Do you think I should give Lavender some Honeydukes chocolate? You know to make up for what happened?" Asked Ron thoughtfully as he picked up a few chocolate frogs.

"You fancy her don't you? – Oh hi! Hermione, Ginny." Said Harry abruptly, hastily stowing the tooth-blackening fudge behind his back.

"Hi Harry, Ron. So, where are we off to next?" Asked Hermione. "Or are we staying in here for a bit…?"

A quarter of an hour later they all exited Honeydukes with bags stuffed with sweets and chocolate. "Say, can we visit the Quidditch Supply store for a moment?" Asked Ron as they trundled down the street. Hermione hung her head and blushed a deep crimson as Ginny smiled sympathetically. "What's the matter with you Hermione?" Asked Ron.

"Nothing, nothing." She replied furtively and hid her face in her coat as they reached the store. A few of the male students who had recognised Hermione gave a whistle as the door opened; some gave her a wink and a glance. "Ginny and I will wait out here until you come back."

Harry entered the store completely confused. Even more confused when he came out. "What's that all about Hermione? Do those guys know you or something?"

She shook her head vehemently. "No, no I don't know them either. They're just interested in… well, never mind."

"They're just interested in this new dress I bought Hermione." Ginny supplied evilly. "We popped into the store to check if you were in there earlier. Some had a choice glance at Hermione without her layered attire."

"Ginny I am so going to kill you!" Whispered Hermione angrily, and not to mention loudly.

"Hey! Show us the dress!" Cried Ron, feeling deceived. "You failed to reveal to _us _your best friends, what this whole ruckus is about." Hermione clung tightly to her coat, daring never to open it. "Show us Hermione! I want to have a reason to beat those guys to a pulp."

"No"

"What do you have to lose?" Asked Harry.

"No."

"Hermione!" Yelled Ginny.

"Fine! It's just a bloody dress!" Said Hermione, feeling very vexed as she reluctantly opened her coat.

"Blimey…" Breathed Ron, his mouth hanging open.

"Yeah…" whispered Harry, in a mild state of shock.

"So you've had your look now let's buy our presents and get back to the castle." Snapped Hermione, hastily buttoning up her coat as she stomped away, in quite some difficulty due to the heels. She made a mental note to curse Ginny for this. A few minutes afterwards, they found themselves in a small gift shop, by Hermione's request, purchasing Christmas cards.

"It seems like enough." Said Ginny eyeing Hermione's thick pile incredulously, "looks like you've accommodated everyone." But in fact, Hermione hadn't, she counted the number of cards again.

"No I need another one." She fretted.

"For who? With all these, you could practically give the entirety of London a Christmas wish." Said Ginny lazily. Buying Christmas cards wasn't exactly her ideal shopping experience, neither was it for Harry or Ron.

"Oh it's no one…just a friend." In truth the extra card had been for Malfoy. She smiled and chose another card, she planned on giving it to him at the Ball. That was if she was able to attend, she wasn't quite sure if her plan was feasible yet. It would be more than pleasant attending an extravagant high society banquet, but the reason behind her willing desire to attend the Malfoy's Ball was that, really… she didn't think she would be able to stand it if she ever disappointed Malfoy. She cared about his feelings, and she didn't want them to get hurt. For a second she saw the look in his eyes, it was not even a moment, something brief and perhaps even imaginary - but she knew it hurt her inside.

Several hours later, they returned to school with bags full of presents – (in Hermione's case, also cards) - and were prepared to collapse straight into the squishy chairs by the fire. Unfortunately, a rowdy number of fifth years had beaten them to it. Ron almost howled in outrage. _"We're seventh years!" _He cried, _"I want my chair! It's my right to sit in that chair!" _Harry simply sighed and dragged Ron to the boy's dormitory muttering something about seriously needing sleep before exams. Ginny glanced longingly towards the stairs wishing for a bed, huffed, said goodbye and followed suit.

Hermione was left in the common room with the rowdy students and her coat wrapped tightly around herself. Wincing, she glanced towards her heels, fretting on how much they ached. "I'm going to kill Ginny for this." She muttered as she quickly strode up the stairs and into her dormitory. Hastily, she removed the provocative dress, changed into a pair of jeans and a decently covered top and ran back down. She knew she could have been late in meeting Malfoy and didn't bother to stop to massage her feet, still wearing the heeled shoes. It was a great ordeal, having to run up stairs to the seventh floor and down the hall towards the Room of Requirement… in heels. The arduous effort it was to hasten herself up the never-ending staircases, lead her to nostalgically thinking of muggle elevators back in London. As she turned into the corridor of the tapestry with the dancing trolls, she found Malfoy leaning in his suave nature by the wall where the door of the Room was to appear.

He heard approach before he spotted her, the echoing clicking of heels was enough to give her away. "So you came Granger" Said Malfoy as she reached him. "I almost thought you weren't going to attend."

She smirked. "I wouldn't miss this for the world." She replied sarcastically, though she couldn't help but admit that there was a hint of truth ringing around her mind. Draco closed his eyes for a moment, thought hard and the door appeared beside him. Opening the door and stepping aside, he held the door open for Hermione, secretly hoping he could sneak a look at her as she strode passed – he decided to leave that opportunity for later.

"I see you're not wearing that hot little number you were wearing this afternoon, Granger. Why the dramatic change? Now you just look like yourself." Commented Draco as he shut the door behind him, and locking it. Hermione turned bright crimson and cleared her throat.

"No one should have seen that." She muttered in embarrassment.

"Really," said Draco as he approached her, "I know people have coping mechanisms to exam trial stress but I didn't think a trip to makeover-mountain would be down your alley."

"I'm not trying to change myself!" Cried Hermione.

"Then how could you explain the whole…"Draco trailed off and finished his sentence in a form of a series of gestures with his hands, which were supposedly mapping out the hourglass curvaceous figure of a woman's body. Hermione's features contorted into a look of disgust.

"You're such a pervert!" She snapped.

"I'm not a pervert, I'm simply appreciating certain aspects of the opposite sex's anatomy." He stated simply, as if this statement contained no effect at all.

"You…" Began Hermione, "You…there are no words for you. You are insufferable." She spat incredulously.

"Yes…" he sighed, "You've mentioned that. Now can we actually move on to the pressing matter at hand? The Ball perhaps?"

Her eyes widened. "Oh yes! That. Now what did you want to teach me?"

"A lot." He replied. "You must know how to speak, how to act and how to carry yourself. These are all vitally crucial for this to be a success. You must know our politics and exactly what we talk about. You must also know the dance which will perhaps account for fifty percent of your performance, if you can perform the dance with perfection you will accepted."

"Now I feel like I've just stepped into an examination room." She muttered heavily, wishing nothing more than to join Ginny in her slumber.

"Well that Ballroom will be your examination room." Stated Draco with a professional teacher-like air about him. "Now, are you ready to begin?"

Hermione shrugged then nodded. "As ready as I'll ever be." She said bracingly.

"Good. Now sit there." Said Draco pointing to a spot in the middle of the room. Hermione looked inquiringly at the piece of floor he had chosen for her to sit on and was about to question him, when from thin air, out popped a high backed chair.

"Right" she muttered, seating herself. Draco stood in front of her and fretted for a moment.

"We shall begin with the introductions." He began to pace. "When you enter the Manor, as a guest you will be directed by a house-elf to the Grand Ballroom. This is up the main stairs and through the doors. Upon reaching these doors, you will notice the gold-laced design upon the handles. Now as an aristocrat, you are not to touch these. That is the work of the announcer. Before proceeding into the door you must inform the announcer of your name so that he may announce your status formerly to the party – yes you have a question?"

"I'm a seventeen-year-old muggleborn. Now what status shall be announced for me? I highly doubt you snotty-nosed aristocracy would enjoy a simple label, such as my name." Said Hermione sceptically, frowning a bit.

"Well I was getting to that." Said Draco quickly. "A status is only ever needed for those who either are filthy rich or simply have an extremely high class in society, minors for example you or even Pansy, don't require a status attached to the end of their names. You may simply say Miss Hermione Granger – well of course I'll be giving you an alias, my father would recognise you in an instant if you were announced. However, if you're like me, the announcer usually says Master Draco Malfoy heir to…so and so forth."

Hermione nodded, her mind absorbing the information like a sponge. "You're society is so… superficial. It's quite unnerving."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You get used to it. But that's beside the point. Now, you must wait at the doorframe for the announcer to of course _announce _you." Said Draco tersely. "Oh and it would help with the whole image if you'd try to look like you own the place." He added as an after-thought.

"Oh? So being a condescending bastard is actually _taught_ to you people? I thought it came naturally with you." Joked Hermione almost sarcastically. "So I could simply imitate you and I 'd fit right in."

"Precisely, but then, what we be doing here?" He asked. "Now, so your name has been announced." He paced some more. "You step into the hall and try to converse with people. If you sit on the sidelines like a wallflower, people will be suspicious. Remember this is taught from birth." Draco stressed. "Do not talk about the weather, or the music, or anything about the night. Avoid politics if possible, unless you know what side the person is on. If it's an alleged Death Eater for instance - "

"There are Death Eaters at these things?"

"Yes Granger but -"

"But even ministry officials attend these things. Won't they know? We could capture these criminals!"

"Granger shut up. I'm a Malfoy, you might as well arrest the entire Ballroom. Besides, my father isn't stupid enough to invite a known Death Eater to a Ball along with the company of a few ministry officials. Merlin no. He is cunning. He knows who to invite." Said Malfoy, growing a little annoyed. He sighed, conjured a chair and sat across from her. "What was I saying, now you've made me completely lose track…"

"You were saying something about what to talk about." Hermione implied, leaning comfortably into her chair.

"Oh yes, that's right." He answered, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Yes now if you know they're on the darkside then imply in some way that you support their cause and you think Voldemort is totally right etcetera -"

"Are you telling me to _lie?_" Asked Hermione incredulously. "I can make a basis of conversation but certainly no! I am not going to tell a man I support that evil, evil freak. No, I can lie, but saying something like that is beyond me."

"Granger please shut up… ok then you don't have to say that. Just stay away from politics or any headstrong idealism, _especially _SPEW."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest but then shut it upon receiving Draco's glare. "So what _do I_ talk about?"

"Indifferent things." He answered. "At times you don't even have to talk at all. If per chance you are conversing with a rather wealthy gentleman, bring up the subject of his finances – that's only if he doesn't bring it up himself, but on most occasions he will – wealthy men love boasting about how rich they are so just play along. Nod and smile as they speak to you, even if you have no idea what they are talking about." Draco continued to stroke his chin thoughtfully. "It would also help to flatter them or compliment them whenever they stop to take a breath. If they ask for your opinion, tell them that you would like to hear more about them, and your ideas can be saved for later."

"But what if the person is incomprehensibly tedious?" Asked Hermione innocently.

"Then flicker your gaze to the dance floor." Said Draco. "A lady must never offer the man to the dance floor. That is the man's obligation. A lady who offers a man to dance is seen as too forward and lacking in correct upbringing…if you can get this right, then I applaud you. Pansy always failed in that area." He chuckled. "If you keep flickering your gaze to the floor, he'd obviously get the hint that you want to dance and he'd ask you. (Unless he's extremely dense) But hopefully, I'd find you before you need to do this."

"So what happens after you find me?" asked Hermione, propping her face onto her elbow on the armrest of the chair.

Draco took a deep breath. "Well, it's my duty to introduce you to my family and their associates."

"I-Introduce me to your family! Are you insane?" She cried, straightening up.

"You'll have your bloody mask on." Drawled Draco, "Now I will say: Mother, Father May I present Hermione Granger, she is a fellow student of mine and she is delighted to attend at our Grand Ball." Said Draco in a stately manner as he rose, pretending his parents were actually present. "After I say this, you say: I thank you for this wonderful occasion and I am graciously humbled for you to be allowing me into your hallowed estate."

"I thank you for this wonderful occasion and I am graciously humbled for you to be allowing me into your hallowed estate." Hermione repeated. Draco winced.

"Can you come here for a minute?" He asked holding out a hand. Hermione stood and walked to the place beside him. "Now say it again."

"I thank you for this wonderful occasion and I am graciously humbled for you to be allowing me into your hallowed estate." Hermione repeated once more. "What's wrong?"

"Posture straight," Said Draco "and try to say it as if you honestly mean it, there should not be a hint of pride as you say this… now let's try once more, only properly." He took her hand in his and lifted it so their arms were linked, looking as if he were escorting her.

"W-What are you? … Oh ok - I thank you for this wonderful occasion and I am graciously humbled for you to be allowing me onto your hallowed estate." Said Hermione gratefully, she reduced her voice to such a softness that it was almost un-Hermione-like. Draco gave her a genuine smile.

"Perfect." He whispered to her. "Ok… so are you ready for the fun stuff?"

"…Which is?" she inquired eagerly.

"The dance." He replied promptly. With pride. "It's good you have those heels on, because that's what you'd probably be dancing in on the night."

Hermione gulped and nodded as Draco took a step back from her. "It begins with a bow." He said bowing and extending an upturned palm as Hermione curtsied as best she could. "Good, you know what you're doing." He smiled, Draco knew what was going to happen next. He simply didn't know if he could keep a straight face while doing it.

"What happens now?" Asked Hermione, her cheeks tinting pink.

"Your hand receives a kiss." He replied. Hermione gulped, not in fear but to quell the growing sensation inside of her when he took her hand and lightly placed his lips upon it, soft and gentle. His eyes never left hers. For a moment everything remained silent as the tension between the two mounted as their eyes locked. His silver orbs glistened as they met her umber gaze, caressing the angles of her face with utmost intensity. Slowly, he took his lips away from her hand and shifted his gaze to the floor. He let her hand slip from his and took his back furtively. Hermione let out a silent but drawn breath. Her cheeks shone an angry crimson ablaze with fire.

"You're flushed." He said quietly, not quite meeting her gaze.

"…" She swallowed and cleared her throat. "Malfoy, I -" She paused and took a breath, barely able to stand the awkward and unwavering tension filling the air. "You know these feelings… you and I have… I still care about you, you know." She whispered.

Malfoy made no comment or indication to reply instead he looked grave. "… I know." He stated finally, a whisper levelling hers.

"We have to deal with that." Said Hermione said succinctly.

"I know." He repeated tonelessly. However, beneath his stoic and rigid surface, his insides raged with an insatiable desire. It was difficult to control. The simple act of kissing her hand was maddening as he thought swam around his mind that it should be her lips his lips should be caressing instead. "Come on." He said suddenly. "You have a dance to learn."

"Ok. But I'll be needing a break in a short while…I'm exhausted, and besides, the heels are killing me."

A/N: I know I'm an idiot... haven't updated in a LONG! time. So extra long chapter... please review! Even if it is to tell me how much you hate me for not updating fast enough. (reasons are on my profile) But I'll try to get the next chappie in sooner. It'll be a big one!


	13. Surprises Let us run free

**A/n: I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY! **I know I've taken long, but really I've been suffering numerous writers blocks and I have just returned from my month long vacation to the states. But that's no excuse now is it. I have received all your reviews, especially those ones with nothing but the word: update! Okay, I won't keep you any longer, a long chap today. Enjoy! (BTW it's the most fluffy thing ever!)

**Chapter 13 – Surprises(Let us run free)**

Hermione sank lazily into a squishy green couch, much like the ones by the fire in the Gryffindor common room. They had the exact texture, feel and comfort enough to make Hermione feel cosy and safe anywhere – even if she was alone with Draco Malfoy. She had conjured them in the Room of Requirement, she was going to make them red but kept them green for Malfoy's sake. He then made a comment about injustice and how Slytherins didn't have anything remotely as comfortable as the 'squishy' chairs.

Draco sat across from her silently, gazing intently at Hermione's soft features as she slowly dozed off to sleep. It had been their third 'Pureblood Etiquette' lesson and was spent mostly learning the dance. Hermione was a keen learner and caught on quickly. Draco was sure that she'd have it memorised in no time. It made his insides giddy with excitement as she displayed an eager keenness to learn more about his world. But most importantly as she had sincerely hung on to his every word with interest and _actually remembering_ the things he said as if it contained some worth. It made him feel not like a snotty spoiled rich-boy with nothing other than snobbery to say, but it made him feel like he was a part something, something important. He enjoyed that most about her company, she listened to him… she cared. Sure Pansy and his fellow Slytherin members listened to him with rapt attention as if he were their Prince or leader, but not with the certain caring sincere concern Hermione harboured. She remembered things he said. Not just the important things but she took notice of the small parts that made him, _him. _

From the shallow and even breaths and her head lolled to the side, Draco knew for sure that Hermione had fallen asleep. His silver eyes surveyed her carefully, delicately, memorising every curve of her face, the soft shine of her bushy curls and her lips a soft pink. The colour of Spring's first morning rose. Even with her faults, her stubbornness, blood and haughty indignation – he had seen it all. _Did she always look as innocent as a child as she slept?_ Wondered Draco thoughtfully. On the contrary, she did have dark purple bags underneath her eyes and a tired look about her. Studying, most likely. It was all she did, during breaks or any scrap of leisure time she could salvage from her hectic schedule. He almost pitied her, only realising he had almost that amount of work as well. She needed a break and he ought to let her rest. Draco knew she would be cross upon discovering her let her sleep but she needed it. Besides… she looked cute when she was angry.

His thoughts floated back to the dance. It was the most insane sensation holding her in his arms. It provoked every temptation he had and yet it was bearable. Draco could also see the faint pink blush arise at times as he held her close during a step. He jolted with excitement as it told him she felt something too. He was only getting close to thinking about how he felt about being protective of her in his arms… until he slipped into unconsciousness…

_The Jungle. The smell of wet earth lingered in the air as damp soil compressed beneath his feet, it was if he was standing on mushy moist pillows. He surveyed his surroundings. Dense green foliage surrounded him as the sound of birds chirping filled the air and the extreme presence of life engulfed him. Flowers of all colours littered the floor, some smelling pleasant – others not. A small trail of bright cerise flowers - some breed of weird lily- lead to a hidden door. With trepidation, he took a step – the soft earth shifting underneath his weight. Following the cerise lilies he reached the door draped thickly with jungle vines. It didn't look like a door, it was more like an abandoned ancient wall but by some magical pull, he was aware it was a door. Frail rays of sunlight protruded shyly from the canopy as he tried to make out the writing on the door. It was ancient and carved… yet familiar. As he reached out to touch it, everything faded…_

"_What the?" He said aloud, his voice echoing in the darkness. A scene then shimmered into view. It was indoors, underground, damp and dirty. The air of catacombs filled his nostrils. Yet everything was still hazy as if he had been looking through a heat wave. He looked around frantically, trying to decipher what was going on. Figures… many figures… an altar. There was a stone altar. But how could that be? There was someone lying on top of it, as if they were a sacrifice to a God or something… Draco squinted and looked as hard as he could. The person was female, he could tell. And she was either sleeping, unconscious or worse… dead. "What the bloody hell is going on here!" He yelled. "Is this vision changing, again?" He squinted towards the girl lying on top of the altar. She had brown hair…a mass of thick brown hair…she looked uncannily like…_

"Malfoy! Malfoy! Oh God Malfoy!" Cried a terrified voice. Immediately his eyes shot open. Two large worried brown eyes met him. Hermione was right up in his face wearing the most worried of expressions.

"…Granger?" Said Draco faintly. "I thought you were asleep."

"I was." She said promptly, pacing madly in front of him. "And you didn't wake me up! So eventually, I woke from my nap and I find you asleep. So I go to wake you up and…"

"And?"

"…and you didn't. You scared the bleeding hell out of me. I almost thought you were dead." Said Hermione softly looking at him reproachfully.

"Well." Said Draco smirking. "I'm glad that you are so concerned about my life but I was just -" Hermione glared at him and flicked her thick mass of curls around her shoulder and turned away, angrily. _Thick, brown hair… the figure on the altar…Hermione Granger? No. It's not possible… could it? _ Draco almost gasped aloud. "I was just dozing off, I sleep like a log you know." He lied.

"You had a vision didn't you?" Asked Hermioe bluntly.

Damn she was perceptive. "If you must know… yes."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Asked Hermione, looking slightly put out.

"It changed today, just now." Said Draco quickly, he really didn't want to believe that the possibly dead figure laying limply on the altar was Granger.

"How?" She asked interestedly, stepping towards him.

"I'm underground, in a catacomb…" He replied, that was the extent in which he would tell her. He didn't want to scare her for no absolute reason. She already had too much to worry about, and so did she.

"Anything else?"

"No. That was it. That was all I could make out." He lied convincingly, wearing another one of his masks. Just another mask. Hermione knew well enough that this wasn't entirely true, but decided to believe him until he trusted her enough to reveal the truth.

"Draco… are you alright?" She asked, just to make sure.

"Why wouldn't I be?" He gave her an arrogant smile, hoping she would be convinced. She wasn't. He had this vision to think about…

"Draco are you sure you're alright? You look quite pale." Asked Hermione timidly, placing a concerned hand on his arm. He flinched slightly at her touch. It pulled him back to reality and reminded him that he wasn't alone the room. Placing his best mask of indifference on his face, he allowed the corners of his lips twitch into a slight smile.

"I'm sure. I'm fine." Surely that would have convinced her.

Hermione nodded in approval. "I'd better get going. I have an Arithmancy Essay to finish." She said curtly, waving as she left.

Draco could have slapped himself. He gave a low, hollow chuckle. "So do I Granger. So do I." He had completely forgot that essay as his school work continued to form a mountain around him. With the added work of tutoring Hermione whilst at the same time trying to suppress his rising feelings towards her; the daunting prophecy didn't hold as much importance or priority as it should have in his life. It should have been something burdensome, weighting and fearful, but even as Draco knew the fate of everyone rested upon his shoulders - he couldn't quite grip that it would be happening so soon.

Draco glanced at the door. Hermione's presence was still a whiff in the air. He shook his head. "It's not possible." He muttered, shrinking in denial. "It's a mere coincidence." He sighed. What kind of pure lunacy was involved in his visions? "How could Hermione be involved in Abyssus Erigo prophecy? It involves me and only me. She's not of any magical blood. It's not possible that it was her I had seen..." He raked a hand through his silky blonde hair and exhaled deeply. Retrieving his bag, he left the room just as Hermione had done, to start the Essay she was now finishing. He descended to the dungeons, only half able to convince himself. It was that which struck a concern in him the most.

"Oi! Oi you little miscreants! You horrible little ingrates! The train is leaving and you'd better be on it or I'll hang you from the roof by your thumbs!" Howled Filch in frustration as students cluttered the Entrance Hall, their trunks occupying the majority of the floor space. It had been a few weeks since Hermione had been under Draco's tutelage and it was the last day of school before the Christmas Holidays. She was somewhat confident that she could pull it off, yet she would study her notes she made during Draco's lessons. He would roll his eyes continuously as he caught her quill scratching furiously against the parchment as he spoke. Often he would snatch iy from her hands just to see her grow riled, because despite she Hermione growing annoyed with him, he always though she looked inexplicably cute when she was angry.

"Harry, Ron." Said Hermione warmly as they approached her, lugging their trunks behind them.

"Hermione." They both replied.

"Promise to write to me over the holidays." Said Hermione as she hugged them both.

"Can't this wait until we actually step OFF the train? Not before we go ON it?" asked Ron, tripping over his own luggage as Hermione took him into a friendly hug.

"Yes, but I won't be seeing you until Christmas morning."

"It's a shame you can't spend Christmas Eve with us." Said Harry as Hermione hugged him in turn. She sniffed from the cold.

"I know, but I have family attending from all parts of the country for Christmas and I can't get away." That was all true what she had just said, but then there was another reason... she knew that it was best not to mention that little occasion to the boys.

For Hermione it was a brief train ride, with a few notable occurrences, like Ron choking on a vomit flavoured bean, Harry and his hurting scar and Malfoy walking in, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. As soon as he walked in, Hermione's eyebrows shot to her hairline, losing themselves in her bushy curls. He made no remark about the ruckus caused in their particular carriage, instead barked a sharp message.

"Headmaster wishes to see both of us Granger." Said Draco haughtily, eyeing the carriage with disgust. "It's about the decathlon." He added sharply at Harry and Ron's glare's.

"Oh. Right." Replied Hermione, doing her best to feign disappointment. When Malfoy walked out, Hermione waited a few seconds before joining him. As soon as she walked a few steps out of the door, she was yanked to her side and shoved into an empty compartment. As soon as she was in, Malfoy closed the door, triple locked it, pulled the blind down and muttered a few spells so they wouldn't be heard or seen. "So what's this about the decathlon?" Asked Hermione brightly. Draco rolled his eyes.

"This isn't about the _decathlon_ Granger." He exasperated. "I needed an excuse to get you out of there."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to ask you…" He hesitated for a moment. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Although he didn't explicitly mention it, she knew exactly what he was referring to. "Of course I'm sure." She replied promptly. "I've come this far, I'm not turning back because in the end I find out I'm a little intimidated."

"Ok. Good." Draco nodded with a sense of relief, he turned around and began undoing all the spells.

"Wait! Wait." Said Hermione suddenly. "Before you do all that. Can I ask you a very silly question?" Asked Hermione, her cheeks growing a tinge pink. He waited for her to speak. "What do I wear?"

-----------

"Ok Rebecca I'll be going now." Said Hermione to her cousin hastily as she crept to her bedroom window. A girl with chocolate brown wavy hair and hazel eyes followed Hermione eagerly.

"I'll see you later okay?" Said Rebecca, her usually perky voice, even more preppy than usual. "Er, are you sure you can climb out of the window in _that?_"

"I… think so." Replied Hermione carefully, wincing slightly at the prospect of the dress hampering her movement. It was the night of Christmas Eve. It was the night of the Malfoy Christmas Ball. The snow had begun late this season, leaving her driveway blanketed in snow. Hermione stared at her dress, hoping that in escaping her family Christmas party to attend the Ball, climbing out the window wouldn't ruin it. It was a beautiful gown made of cascading power blue and white silks, multiple layers of blue chiffon and light pink roses stitched with the finest detail. After inquiring Malfoy about her attire on the train, he merely laughed and said he do something about it. She fretted for the few days afterwards wondering what "doing something about it" meant when a package came in the mail for her, a large white box that required four owls to carry.

It was quite some task hiding the large box from all her muggle relatives that had arrived to stay at her residence for Christmas. From all over the country they came for a family reunion and a ridiculously large Christmas party. Her sixteen year-old cousin Rebecca was assigned to room together with Hermione, and being the cousin Hermione trusted the most, she needed an accomplice – someone to cover for her while she was away. The feast was now over and Hermione found time to go. Sneaking to her room, she dressed while Rebecca took pleasure in manually straightening her hair (the muggle way) and doing it up for her, taking mind to embed pink roses in her hair. It was simple, yet sophisticated; Hermione went to the bathroom where she could perform a spell to keep it in tact, away from Rebecca's sight. She also placed a warming spell on her cloak to protect her and her exposed shoulders from the snow outside.

"Bye Becky. Thanks for this." Hermione hugged her cousin and put on her black cloak around herself. She hated concealing the truth from her, she did inform her that she was attending a high society costume ball, yet she hated omitting the magical truth. Hermione surreptitiously grabbed her wand and her mask and hid them in the inner pockets of her cloak.

"See you later Hermione." She waved. "And make sure to grab a kiss under the mistletoe!"

Hermione blushed, although she wasn't because of the thought of kissing Draco, or the winter cold. "Thanks." She smiled meekly, climbing down the storm water pipe carefully then dropping neatly into her snow-covered driveway. Hermione checked her pockets one more time. "Hey Becky! Pass me the invitation." She whispered loudly, so as not to alert anyone but Becky inside. "I can't get through the doors without it!… Or else if I try, they'd kill me." She whispered the latter part under her breath. The white envelope laced with gold and silver dropped from her window, and Hermione caught it eagerly. "Okay, bye now. I'll be back in a couple of hours."

Rebecca waved from the room window, as Hermione ran down the street and turned the corner into a dark alleyway. Checking the street to make sure she was alone, she retrieved her wand and apparated. When she appeared, she heard the loud clicking of thestral hooves as large lavishly decorated carriages came to deliver even more lavishly dressed guests to the large oak front doors of the Malfoy Manor. From where she was standing, she couldn't see much, seeing as she apparated just behind the hedges that stood in front of the large stone and wrought iron fence that surrounded the entire premises. But from where she was standing, she could see the carriages arrive from the stone paved street and make a right into the driveway. Hastily, she plunged her hand into her cloak pocket and pulled out her pale blue mask, it was plain yet the edges were trimmed with silver and gold lace. Stepping carefully forward, she walked towards the gates until the entire view of Malfoy Manor came into full view.

Her jaw dropped.

It was the largest house – no it was a mansion. It was like a fairytale. The front lawn was neatly trimmed and perfect, cutting through it was the long cobblestone driveway lined with all shades of roses Hermione could think of. Pine trees and hedges stood beside the manor proudly as if they were the Malfoys themselves standing before them with their statuesque figures. The driveway lay like a large semi-circle, originating from one gate, travelling through to the green carpeted front door and then back out through another wrought iron gate beholding the Malfoy crest. But the Manor itself! That was a sight to see. It was a prominent efficacious edifice, with many windows streaming gold light, gargoyle-like statues stood on the roof, their wings spread wide, mouths crying out to the moon. Vines wrapped around the large posts beside the oak doors like snakes – perhaps they were snakes – Hermione didn't know. All the snow in the front lawn had been completely (magically, most likely) vanished. Hermione was left wondering what kind of gardener would spend this much time on a garden like _this_. Even to vanish that much snow away from the manor itself and the garden took quite some time and magic. Back at home, her driveway was decked with the white stuff, and here, it was completely clean as if Spring had just arrived.

Hermione gulped and stepped forward, maintaining to the edge of the driveway so as not to be trampled by incoming carriages. As she approached the Manor, she could already hear the orchestra playing from inside, a classic waltz. Excitedly, she quickened her pace and reached the front door. An usher and several house elves bowed to her, she could only smile and curtsy back.

"Your cloak, my lady." Said a house elf, looking exactly how Dobby once looked. She refrained from scowling as her SPEW ideals propped up into her mind, but she knew to her dismay, she had to push her thoughts down. Allowing an usher to remove her cloak, she gave in the invitation. At once a House Elf approached her and bowed.

"I will lead you to the Ballroom, my lady." It said bowing so low that Hermione could no longer see its face, only its bat-like ears. _Jeez, _thought Hermione, _this is happening just as Draco said it would. _She was led forward through to the Grand Staircase that lay just ahead of her and up the steps. It was then, Hermione realised that the floors were made entirely of marble. _Talk about wealthy. _Hermione knew, just as about everyone in the wizarding world knew how wealthy the Malfoys were, but honestly.

Hermione and the house elf reached large beige doors with gold –laced handles. "The examination room." She muttered, trepidation and anxiety causing a lump to rise in her throat. The gold-laced handles… she knew wasn't to touch these. Abruptly, the two beige doors opened, and the house-elf bowed low once more and left. Immediately the announcer approached her and said: "Name?"

Hermione cleared her throat and gave him the name Draco gave her. "Lady Harriet Dalevir, of Romania."

She stepped forwards and into the room. Her breath caught in her throat as the she witnessed the spectacular sight before her. It was a humungous room, almost the size of the Entrance Hall at Hogwarts. Everyone dressed in their best gowns and dressrobes. Couples, dancing on the dance floor, many people, most of which she recognised from the _Daily Prophet_ or some kind of wizarding magazine, were chatting and laughing endlessly as many brightly lit chandeliers hung from above.

"May I present: Lady Harriet Dalevir of Romania!" Said the announcer loudly. Some people looked, a photographer of the Daily Prophet took a photo and Hermione stepped cautiously inside, making sure her mask was securely attached around her face.

"Now." She whispered, bracing herself. "Now to find him."

Draco stood at the steps facing the Ballroom. There were three levels to the Manor, and this other staircase just happened to be the centre feature of the Ballroom. He scanned the room relentlessly, searching for Hermione. He had been standing like that, for fifteen minutes, it was already the hour of nine and she hadn't shown up yet, he began to worry. He decided to delve into the crowd. Winding through the forest-like throngs of people, he searched for the mask that hid her face. Nothing. He scoured the entire Ballroom and found nothing. _He was her escort, _this shouldn't be happening.

The music changed. It was the music that signified the special dance of the evening, the dance where everyone was required to participate… the most important one he taught her. Couples began to gather to the dance floor, he heard a familiar twinkling laugh… Draco whipped around.

And there she was.

A swan fluttering gracefully across a lake, her movements were full of mirth, grace and dignified elegance. She spun, her face radiant and her hair all strung up with roses, her cheeks tinted pink as if petals of the roses in her hair rested upon them. She was a glittering star. Before he realised it, his throat went dry. As the throngs of people walked to the dance floor, he snapped out of his awed trance and cleared his throat just to say: "My God, I bloody excellent teacher." The fellow Hermione was dancing with was one of his distant uncles Draco knew, but he had no time to pay attention to him.

Hermione danced, laughing. It was fun, even though the gentleman she was dancing with, wasn't. She laughed, imagining it was Draco in his place. "Malfoy…" she murmured, "Where are you?" She came here to spend the night with him, not dance with a forty-year-old with the only intention of boasting about his finances. Hermione noticed everyone was already on the floor, which meant Draco had to be here somewhere. Her expression lit up with hope. The dance began once more. She extended her arm, had it kissed, curtsied and the dance began. She spun happily, took a step and the rest was natural to her. _Malfoy_, she thought, _you're a good teacher_. After one round, they changed partners. Another man, another face, but not Malfoy's. A few more rounds and more and more faces. It was a whirlwind of sound and colour where she couldn't stop, she didn't even care to look into the eyes of who she was dancing with anymore - until finally… another round, and a hand that fit so naturally into hers. He kissed it, his lips brushing like two petals against her skin. Soft, yet coarse, and entirely familiar. She looked up and smiled. They began to dance.

"I found you." Said Draco, smiling. His grey eyes shone beneath the mask.

"Finally, you're here." She sighed, as he turned her. She caught a whiff of his sent, she blushed. As she grew close into his arms, she finally allowed herself to rest against his firm chest. It was alas the final round of the dance.

"You look stunning tonight, Granger, if I didn't know who you were, you would have fit right into the crowd." Said Draco as the music stopped.

"Thank you." She replied, fixing her mask. "But you know, I can only steal a few hours here." She whispered cautiously, as she took his elbow and allowed him to lead her off the dance floor. They stopped at the refreshment table, where Hermione gaped at the amount of food that came from practically all parts of the world. "You have a very diverse cook." She commented.

Draco took a gulp of Firewhiskey, cleared his throat and set the glass down. "Several in fact."

"Was that _Firewhiskey?_" Hermione asked, horrified. "You can drink that?"

"Of course." He shrugged.

"I would think that you wouldn't be daring enough to even try such a varied arrange of food." Said Hermione eyeing the food, almost hungrily. The feast she had earlier back at home, still kept her full, although it was so scrumptious to look at. Grabbing a Swiss chocolate. She popped it in her mouth.

"Well Granger, I was at first. But after about attending a zillion of these things throughout the course of your life, you begin to appreciate diversity." He said leaning against the table, scanning the room. "Come, I must present you as my escort, to my parents."

Hermione choked. "_Now?_" Her voice tiny.

"Let's just get it over with." Said Draco, offering her his elbow once more. She sighed.

"You're right."

Hermione expected the encounter to be a terrifying experience, but with Draco by her side, it wasn't much so. Meeting the Malfoys wasn't as bad as she thought, she said her lines and played the part, and she surprisingly passed. She just wished he had her wand so she could hex Lucius Malfoy on sight. Merlin, how she hated him. But instead of pummelling the unsuspecting Death Eater to the floor, she smiled politely and greeted them carefully.

As she and Draco walked away, Hermione let out a huge sigh of relief. "Thank goodness that was over."

"See? You passed the test." Said Draco lightly, congratulating her by squeezing her hand. "…Harriet." Hermione smiled lightly at he name.

"So what do we do now?" Asked Hermione. She had only been there for an hour to the most.

"Well", Draco led her up the staircase. "I want to show something." He told her with a crazily mischievous glint in his eye.

Suppressing a giggle of delight, Hermione followed him out of the Ballroom and to the third floor. "Where are we going?" She asked. Draco smiled, but said nothing. The corridor he led her to was dark, lit only by candlelight. She knew they hadn't gone far, for she could still hear the music streaming from the Ballroom below. They stopped at an alcove. Here, she felt it was safe enough to remove her mask.

"I want to show you something outside." Said Draco, finally removing his.

"Wait… I need my cloak then, and my wand." Said Hermione, turning to return downstairs and retrieve her cloak.

"I'll get them." Draco stopped her. "I know where they are kept." He broke off into a run, and disappeared down the corridor. Hermione sighed. What was Draco going to show her? Her heart thumped in anticipation as she let her eyes trail upwards to the ceiling. Her jaw dropped as, dangling from the ceiling, was mistletoe. Immediately, she felt the rise of blood rush to her cheeks. Rebecca's words echoed in her mind, and chose to ignore the sign. Draco returned moments later with her cloak and handed it to her.

"That was fast." She commented, her eyes unconsciously flicking upwards. His gaze followed hers, the trailed back downwards. Clearing his throat, he wrenched his eyes off her lips and the dangling mistletoe. Why did she always have to make his mouth dry? He smirked and brushed passed her, opening a door. He held it open for her as she stepped inside.

Hermione examined the room in awe. It had a familiar atmosphere to it. The high ceiling was lit with a chandelier, to the left was a large four-poster bed with silk black sheets and luxury furniture, to her left was a door which most likely led to a bathroom. Stepping carefully forward, she noticed the large window, fringed with heavy drapes and a view of the entire Malfoy estate. "Malfoy…?" She asked, stepping towards the window. "What is this place?"

"My room, Granger. I know it's absolutely amazing. But try not to drool on the floor…" He chuckled. "Just joking… consider yourself lucky. Pansy would _kill_ to be in your position right now." _Whoa! _Hermione crashed into reality. _I'm in his room, I'm in his room, I'm in his room, I'm in his room, Oh God… _Finally she realised that he was the cause of the familiar atmosphere, and she spotted a few Hogwarts trinkets lying on a table. When she finally knocked out of her reverie, all she could utter was:

"Nice bed." She could have slapped herself for saying that.

Malfoy looked at her oddly. "Er, thanks." He walked towards a cupboard and retrieved a couple of brooms. "Do you know how to fly?"

"Er…"

"Right." He concluded, judging her expression, and he tossed one broom back into the cupboard. "You'll have to come with me then."

"What?" Asked Hermione, watching him stride towards the window, broom in hand. He opened the lower section of the large window and made a gesture for her to come forward. "And what are we doing?"

"We're climbing out of the window." He stated, smiling. Hermione rolled her eyes and put her cloak on.

"Goodness, this is the second time I've done this tonight." She muttered as she climbed onto the ledge. Draco went first and settled himself on his broomstick. He held out a hand to Hermione who climbed gingerly through the window and settled cautiously on the broom behind him.

"Why did you have to climb out a window the first time?" Asked Draco as Hermione placed her arms around his stomach. He tingled inside.

"I had to sneak out to come here." Hermione replied, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Who would have thought…" He laughed. "Okay lets go." He lowered them and pushed on slightly forward. In approximately fifteen seconds, the ride was over. Hermione loosened her grip on him.

"Huh? That's it?" She asked as he helped her dismount, onto the snow.

"Yep." He nodded. "I wanted to get you down safely. I couldn't just have you jumping out of a third floor window could I?"

"Why couldn't we just use a door?" Asked Hermione sceptically. "We didn't have to sneak out."

Draco shrugged. "It was more fun my way. Besides, it's a longer walk to the stables if you exit via the door."

"Stables? You have horses?" Asked Hermione as she followed him, using a heating spell to clear a path through the snow, to a wooden building a distance away from the Manor. Draco need not answer, she could already hear the neigh of horses, clicking of hooves and the heavy, animal smell. Draco quietly opened a large door, it creaked open almost silently as they stepped inside. Hermione lifted the hem of her dress, so as not to have it trail against dirt and mud. Squinting through the darkness, she gasped. There were at least twelve or fifteen horses in here, maybe even twenty.

"Sssh, Granger, I don't want to alert the stable hands." Said Draco, placing a finger to his lips as he led her towards the back of the stables, until they reached the last two horses. Draco placed the broomstick down and grinned proudly. Two horses stood in the stables before them, two expansive majestic creatures that looked strong enough to trample anyone and anything in a second. Their manes were braided and kept and their coats reflected a groomed satin sheen. They were amazing animals, Hermione concluded. Hermiome reached to pat the white one between the eyes. "That, Granger, is Ivory." Said Draco, as the horse, allowed her to touch her. "And this," Draco indicated to the black horse, its coat a shimmering obsidian, as black as midnight. "This fellow is Midnight."

"They're absolutely charming. Malfoy, really, they're beautiful." Said Hermione softly. Draco opened the gates and walked the horses out. Hermione surprised to find that they were already saddled.

"You planned this didn't you?" She asked deviously, placing her hands on her hips.

"How did you guess, Granger?" He grinned, leading Midnight and Ivory outside. "Come on, we're going riding, do you need me to help you up?" Hermione nodded sheepishly as she placed her foot onto Ivory's foothold (a/n: what are they called? I forgot) and Draco helped her swing her leg over. "You right?" He asked as Hermione righted herself comfortably.

"Yes, thank you."

Draco nodded and lifted himself up onto Midnight and sat with almost a feline grace. "Right then, let's go east, through the grounds, I want to show you a place where I used to go to, just outside the walls." Draco pointed into the general eastern direction and both horses moved forward. Hermione had to admit, this was the most romantic experience she had ever had. Riding through the snow, underneath the moon, dressed in a lovely gown, and Draco looking overwhelmingly dashing and suave in his silk black dressrobes… it was all so corny, but at the same time she loved every minute of it. Draco accelerated with a canter, challenging her with speed, and Hermione picked up her pace also, smirking as she did so. Draco piqued an eyebrow and accelerated further into a gallop. Hermione shook her head and followed him. It was a silent race, each other challenging the other to move faster until they reached their destination. They galloped through light forests, hills, gardens and Hermione still couldn't believe that this land was all owned by the Malfoys. It was a picturesque scene of the countryside all draped with a thick blanket of snow and ice. They rode for, what Hermione figured to be around, twenty minutes, until Draco finally slowed and came to abrupt stop. Standing, looming in front of them was a thick stone wall, one that wasn't immensely high, but its height and rough edges looked difficult to climb. This wall marked the end of the Malfoy grounds, and finally it did. Draco had one hell of a backyard. Draco dismounted, stepped up to Ivory and held out a hand. Hermione took it uncertainly as he aided her in dismounting. She landed gracefully enough on the moist snow.

"What are we doing here?" she asked, staring confusedly at the wall. It was approximately, two, maybe three metres high.

"You've been asking a lot of questions tonight Granger." Quipped Malfoy, slightly annoyed.

"Well, you're being mysterious," Hermione shot back. _And romantic. _She thought afterwards, inwardly.

"Fine then. We're going to climb over the wall." Said Malfoy, grinning like a little boy. Hermione gave him a sceptical look, threw her head back and laughed.

"I'm being serious Granger." Said Draco. "I want to show you a special… place." Sensing, his serene seriousness, Hermione had no wish to offend him, so she quietened.

"But how?" she asked, "I most certainly can't in this heavy gown."

Draco fretted for a moment. "It's difficult. But it can be done."

"Wouldn't it be more convenient, to fly over, or apparate?" Asked Hermione practically.

"Think about it Granger, this my family's estate we're referring to here, the _Malfoy Manor._ Do you honestly think my father or anyone else would fail to establish any protective layers around the estate?"

_DUH _

She suddenly felt like an idiot and slapped her forehead. "I should have figured that one out." She said lamely, as Draco chuckled. "But… wait. If there are shield layers, won't they also prevent us from climbing over?"

"It should." He stated simply. "However, as a boy I've discovered a weak spot."

"A weak spot."

"Precisely." Said Draco, slushing through the snow passed her. "This area right here is strong enough to prohibit any magical intrusion – including apparition and brooms, but it is weak enough to allow a person, or maybe a couple of people through."

"Can't you use a counter charm to lower the magical field so we could apparate over?"

"Your questions are really beginning to annoy me." Draco commented dryly. Hermione glared at him, her already pink cheeks flushed even darker in slight anger.

"Well, I'm not exactly dressed in flexible latex!" She snapped. Draco turned around for a moment, in a slight shock and stared at her fully, his mind imagining her in that ravishing suggested attire. Once again, his mouth dried and he felt waves of desire coursing through him. "What?" she asked. "You're staring."

Instantaneously he jerked back around and cleared his throat uncomfortably. "You look funny when you're riled. It's quite entertaining." Taking a few steps backwards, Draco ran, jumped and hoisted himself up onto the wall and sat there, feeling triumphed as she looked up to him. "To tell you the truth Granger, I could remove these shields myself, but my father would sense it in an instant and we'd be dangerously screwed."

"Right." Hermione nodded. "Now are you going to make me scale this wall in this gown, or are you going to be a man and _Wingardium Leviosa _me over?"

Draco smirked. "Spoken like a true pure-bred brat."

"Well, I had Draco Malfoy as my tutor." She grinned, and before she could do anything else, Draco extracted his wand.

"_Wingardium Leviosa!_" Making sure to take utmost care, he lifted her over the wall and out of the grounds, landing her softly on the snow beyond the Malfoy estate. It was a simple enough spell that it was not detected by the shield.

"Thank you." She smiled. Draco jumped off the wall and grinned mischievously.

"Let's go." Draco led the way, traipsing through thick foliage and darkness of the forest. Twigs snapped loudly and bush rustled as they went, and Hermione could have sworn she saw a fairy. After five minutes, Draco stood before her, a knowing smile across his features, it made Hermione mad with apprehension. As she stepped cautiously forward, Draco pulled a away a branch that obstructed her view… she gasped. "Welcome, Granger… to The Spring."

She squealed in delight. Stepping forward, her eyes watered. Before her, was a spring, it was a kind of mini-lake glittering with life. Amongst the trees flew fireflies and other glittering creatures Hermione knew not the names of. Hovering and splashing amongst the surface of the water were fairies of all colours, it was like a rainbow skirting the water, creating ripples as they flew by. A few swans floated around here and there, spreading their wings to the moonlight. "…Oh my goodness." She choked, her eyes glazing with tears. "It's beautiful."

"How do you like your Christmas present Granger?" Malfoy asked, stepping behind her.

"I love it completely. Thank you Malfoy." She turned around and embraced him with full force. Almost staggering backwards, he hugged her back. A tantalising sensation grew like a beast inside him, he wasn't meant to feel this way… Hermione released him and wandered over to the water and took off her shoes. Wading only in the shallows, the water reached up to her ankles. A few glowing butterfly-like creatures danced around her, causing her to laugh in free delight and wonder. Draco smiled and sat down at the edge of the lake and watched her. It was in this pristine moment of bliss that he knew true innocence, true life and true emotion. Watching Hermione was like watching a child splash and play as they laughed their days away. No evil existed, no Voldemort, no Abyssus Erigo ritual. Just this spring and Hermione. The scene was enough evoke a warm feeling inside him… it was wonderful and peaceful. He loved every moment of it.

Finally, she sat beside him, giggling in the most un-Hermione-like manner. "Are you alright?" He asked.

"More than alright, Malfoy. I'm ecstatic!" She giggled once more.

"That's good to know then."

"Hey, Malfoy?" Asked Hermione, her voice quietening to normal. "I want to thank you for this surprise. You've surprised me the most wonderful Christmas present I could ever have."

"Thanks…" He murmured.

"I didn't really bring you anything tonight." She muttered, embarrassed and feeling guilty.

"That's fine Granger, you could buy me something and I'd probably already have it." He shrugged and smirked.

"But I bet I can surprise you." Said Hermione knowingly.

He scoffed. "Yeah right. _You_, Hermione Granger? Surprise me? No offence but you're not exactly spon -"

She reached up, placed her arms around his neck and kissed him. Not just any kiss, she really kissed him. Draco was rendered into a stunned shock. His eyes widened as Hermione's lips did most of the talking. But slowly, his eyes drifted shut and he returned the kiss, with as much desire and need as she gave him. It was an just as arousing as the first kiss they had shared that other night… but also a whole lot more. With a painstaking gentleness, he slowly eased forward until he was above her, their lips never braking contact. Running a hand across her side, he deepened the kiss as her hands fisted into his platinum hair. A tiny moan escaped her throat, and finally, they surfaced.

Draco looked deeply into her eyes, silver meeting chocolate. "…Why?" He breathed.

"Because…" She breathed reaching up and pulling his head down, kissing him again, "I was thinking…" she released him. "I was thinking about this a lot over the holidays and well, my plan isn't working. Do you still feel the same way I do?"

"Yes."

"Malfoy, my feelings for you haven't changed… I thought they'd disappear by now, and they haven't." Said Hermione, she sat up as he did he also. "In fact, I think they've gotten stronger."

Draco had difficulty to refrain from smiling. It was if angels themselves had floated down from heaven with their little harps, singing sweet music to his ears. "The feeling is mutual." He replied.

"So I thought, what if we did the opposite? Just let us run free. I mean we can't show the world of course. Your father would kill you and you'd be disowned and Harry and Ron would kill me but, when we're alone… you're welcome to kiss me again." Said Hermione quickly.

"Miss Granger" Said Malfoy, mocking the tone of Professor McGonagall. "Submitting to a clandestine liaison are we? I never realised you indulged in forbidden romances."

"But you can't do anything with me while I'm studying." She said sternly, that shut him up and wiped the smile of his face.

"And why not? That just removes all the fun." He crossed his arms. She smirked.

"Here, I got you a Christmas card." She delved a hand inside her cloak and retrieved the plain envelope for him. He took it and slipped it into his pocket. "Malfoy, what's the time?"

He checked his gold pocket watch. "Eleven-thirty." Hermione panicked.

"I've got to go!" She cried, jumping from Draco's side. "I really need to go."

Draco stood. "Okay then, you can apparate from here, we're already outside the barriers. But before we say goodnight… Can I kiss you instead?" He asked uncertainly.

"I don't see why not." She smiled as he gave her a lasting kiss. She stepped back and gave him a small wave. He returned the wave as she apparated, and he disappeared from sight. Before she knew it, she was once again standing in the dark alleyway, a corner from her house. "Well," she concluded. "That was the sexiest goodnight, I've ever received."

Draco extracted the card from his pocket and read her curved, sophisticated script.

_Dear Malfoy,_

_I hope you enjoy your Christmas Present!_

_I had fun tonight. Thanks for inviting me. _

_Yours,_

_Hermione Granger_

"I did enjoy my present." He said reminiscently. "I certainly did."

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it. I know it was very corny, very cliché and almost even nauseatingly fluffy. Yes, it was a fluff chapter, however if you are one of those people who enjoy angst (like me, I live off the stuff) then, I have some of that in store for this story too! Wow, I think this is the longest chapter yet… 11 pages, size ten font… But I was going to upload it earlier, then I said to myself: "They've all been waiting this long, why not give them something worth their time?" So here you go, their third kiss! Yay! Thanks for waiting, and thanks for reading… deeh.


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